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THE SUNNY SOUTH; 

THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME, 

EMBRACING . 

7 H 

FIVE YEARS' EXPERIENCE OF A NORTHERN GOVERNESS 
IN THE 

LAND OF THE SUGAR AND THE COTTON. 

EDITED BV/ 

PROFESSOR J. H. INaRAHAM, 

OP MissrssiPPi. 



" Stern winter smiles on that auspicious clime, 
The fields are florid with unfading? prime; 
From the bleak p >le no winds inclement blow, 
Mold the round hail, or flake the fleecy snow; 
Hut from tlie breezy dwp the land inhales 
The fragrant murmurs of the western gales." 



PHILADELPHIA : 
O. G. EYANS, PUBLISHER, 

No. 439 CHESTNUT STREET. 
1860. 






9923 



Entered according to tho Act of Congress, in the year 1860, by 

G. G. EVANS, 

in the Clerk's Office of tho District Court for tho Eastern District of 

Pennsylvania. 



r 




EDITORIAL LETTER TO THIS VOLUME. 



To George G-. Evans, Esq. 

Sir: — This manuscript of "Letters from the South/' 
which I send you for j^^our perusal, has been, as you will see, 
very carefully and plainly written out for the press, by a young 
Governess of this State, who diffidently declines to give her 
name in connection with the work. 

It is true that the authorship of what has been composed 
from materials mainly by another hand, cannot be wholly 
claimed by either party : the work, therefore, if published by 
you, must go unaccredited and upon its own intrinsic merits. 

Thirty years' residence at the South, chiefly at Natchez, 
Nashville, and Mobile, enables me to form, perhaps, a correct 
estimate of the accuracy of a work professing to relate the 
experiences of a stranger from the North, sojourning in the land 
of " tobacco, cotton, and sugar." 

The writer has chosen to give the materials collected from 
experience and observation in the attractive form of fiimiliar 
letters, addressed, by request, to an intelligent literary gentle- 
man and editor the North. 

While presenting accurate pictures of " homes in the Sunny 

South," there is skillfully interwoven, an interesting narrative 

embodying the most romantic features of Southern rural life 

(3) 



4 EDITORIAL LETTER. 

on the tobacco, cotton, and sugar estates: the three forms under 
which true Southern Life presents itself. 

The tone of the Book is strictly conservative and national; 
presenting the impartial view which an intelligent, unprejudiced, 
and highly cultivated Northern lady would take of the South, 
her temporary and agreeable home ; and the presentation of 
such a work, though neither profound nor political, (but adapted 
for light, summer-perusal, when one covets .pacific and pleasant 
reading,) at the present time, will, without doubt, be an accept- 
able gift to the reading public ; especially, when hitherto so 
much in relation to our people and institutions is misunderstood 
and misinterpreted by those who have no personal knowledge 
cither of Southerners or of Southern life. 

This work has not been penned merely to meet any recent 
events. The letters composing it were commenced seven years 
ago, and leisurely produced in a period of three years, the last one 
having been completed in 1856 ; and were not written with any 
intention of ever taking a book form. Some of them appeared 
in 1853-4, in the Saturday Courier, a popular paper once pub- 
lished in your city, bearing the nom de plume of " Miss Kate 
Conyngham." 

In consenting to commend them to your attention, I feel 
that I am contributing towards the publication of a work which 
will render more familiar "' Southern Life at Home" to North- 
ern minds, while its scenes, incidents, and characters will 
agreeably interest the reader. 

If the publication of this letter will be of any service to the 
work, and contribute towards your favorable decision, I cheer- 
fully give you permission to append it to the volume. 

Very truly yours, 

J. H. Ingraham. 

Rose Cottage, near Natchez^ Mississippi 



PREFACE. 



As most of the Letters embraced in this volume were written 
for the Editor of- the late American Courier, and appeared 
therein, from time to time, the writer thereof has not seen fit 
to alter the local allusions, the style of address in the Let- 
ters, or the appellation of "Needles," by which they were 
originally designated. As these Letters were commenced, and 
many of them published before Mrs. Stowo's Uncle Tom was 
written, its pictures of South-western life have no reference to 
that work nor were influenced by it. These epistles are not 
replies to any attacks on the South, but a simple representation 
of Southern life, as viewed by an intelligent Northerner, whose 
opinions are frankly and fearlessly given. 

The object of this work is to do justice to the Southern 
planter, and, at the same time, ajBford information in an agree- 
able form to the Northerner ; and if these objects are obtained 
in any degree, the writer, in consenting to its publication as a 
volume, will be fully rewarded. One important fact ought not 
to be overlooked, which is, that ninety-nine out of every hun- 
dred of the governesses, tutors, professional men, and othej-.-. 
who flock to the South, "ten thousand a j-ear," for the improve- 
ment of their fortunes, remain, (the young ladies, if they can 
obtain " Southern husbands/') and identify themselves fully with 
the Southern Institution. 

(5) 



CONTENTS. 



LETTER I. 

INTRODUCTORY. 

FAQS 

Titles, how selected — Their value to a book — The difficulty of choos- 
ing of a good title — " Dots and Lines" — Scissors and Needles — Fe- 
male Authorship — Woman's pen-trinls — The Author's happiness — 
Ambition to be in type 19 

LETTER IL 

A western home — Colo — Beautiful scenery — Cotton and tobacco fields- 
Shelter — Mail coach — Lions — Doves and childhood — Negro quarters 
The overseer's house — The Cumberhuul river 25 

LETTER in. 

The planter and his retinue — The African servant and his dog — The 
hunters' departure — The slave girl, Eda — The numerous servants in 
a southern house — The difference between the field and house slave.. 31 

LETTER IV. 

The hunters' return — The two strangers — The authoress' story — The 
village and the widow — The brothers — The beautiful Ida — The mis- 
chievous boy and minister's horse — Tiie authoress — The normal 
soTiool — The private equipage — Col. Peyton and daughter — -The sur- 
prise 37 

LETTER V. 

Touring among the mountains — Tlie letter — The struggle — The opposi- 
tion — The little invalid scliolar — Tl>o parting at tlie school-house — 
Sympathy — The tour west— Arrival in Nashville — The " Lodge" 45 



8 CONTENTS. 

LETTER Vr. 

PAGS 

Author's looks— Camel's hair pencils — The plantation hell — Waking 
hours — The mint-julep— The luxury of a domestic — The breakfast 
verandah — The dinner — The evening ride — The drawing-room — 
Hours of retiring 50 

LETTER VIL 

Fox-hunting — Kate's courser— The young Tennessee hunters — The 
separation — The master and his slaves — Reflections — The Peacock 
and mule — The fight — A race, but not a fox-chase— The catastrophe. 66 

LETTER VIIL 
The morning start — The ravine and dogs — The negroes' invitation to 
Reynard— The baying— The flight of the fox— The conflict and leap 
— The entanglement — The veil and the death — Kate presented with 
the brush 61 

LETTER IX, 

The rural chapel — The gray-haired pastor — The authoress attends 
church — Group of Madonna and child — The singing of master and 
slaves — The mistress and her servants — The ebony baptisms 66 

, LETTER X. 

Nashville — Its approaches — The Hermitage and tomb — The capitol — 
President Polk — Fashion and gayety — Authors— Poets of the west 
— French in newspapers — Candidate for authorship 71 

LETTER XL 

Enlisted as contributor — Gratitude— The hopes and fears of authorship 
— Love of poets for their verses — Love of self — Newspaper poetry — 
What is immortality— The fame of the year A.M. 6,000 77 

LETTER XIL 

The invitation— The intelligence of the horse — Nineveh — The nobility 
of man — The scenery of the woods — Squirrels — The old negro and 
culprit — Charms — The Indian hunter — The story of the old warrior 
— The hospitable planter — Kate pays toll 83 

LETTER XIIL 

The good and true — Kate's bravery doubted— The old mansion — Di 
Vernon rivalled — Hospitality in silver goblets— The portrait and 



CONTENTS. 9 

PAGS 

character of Jackson — His mercy — The deserter — War-relics — The 
major's war-horse — The deer-stands — Military posting — The deer in 
sight— Perils— The shot 91 

LETTER XIV. 

The pet fawn — Buck and wolf — The uproar in the kennel — The canine 
epicures and Mam' Daphney — Old George and his fiddle — A slave 
village by moonlight — True music — Young Africa — Corn dance — 
Riding a bull for a wager— Songs of the people 102 

LETTER XV. 

The scenery about the lodge — The Polks— The "needles" in danger — 
The bloodhound — A rescue and the dirk — Aunt Phillisy — The aged 
African — Care of southerners for the old slaves — Conversation with 
Cusha — Comparison between the Indian and African— Female politi- 
cians and patriotism — Clay and Webster 112 

LETTER XVL 

Kmerson and his thoughts — Female writers — The colonel reads no book 
written by a lady — Shirley — Goldsmith — Shakspeare — Fame and 
Tom Moore — Opening an Indian mound — Discovery of idols — Ge- 
ology en amateur — Thunderbolts — A lover's quarrel — All owing to 
a prescription — A story proposed 121 

LETTER XVIL 

The Nashville convention — The site of the city — Two South Carolini- 
ans — An old Roman — The party attend convention — Politeness iu 
public assemblies — Madame de Stael upon honor and duty — South 
Carolina orators — The handsome mayor — Speeches of Virginia dele- 
gation— Hon. Wm. Colqaitt— General Pillow— W. H. Polk— Self- 
laudation — Adjournment of convention — Thanks to the ladies — A 
gift from South Carolina 129 

LETTER XVIIL 

A mysterious letter — Not a declaration — The fame of the authoress at 
a premium — Invitation to write — A tale proposed — The master and 
slave — An African wedding — Brilliant costumes — The supper — Ethi- 
opian gentility — The sea-captain — New Africa ignores Old Africa — 
The captain rides 142 



10 CONTENTS. 

LETTER XIX. 

PASS 

The authoress writes a tale — A word to editors — Isabel and the Avounded 
soldier — A noble reply — Orthograplsy and warm hearts — An adven- 
ture with a Bengal tiger — The perilous situation of the ladies — The 
power of music over brutes — The rescue — The death — Birds, and 
monkeys, and little negroes 150 

LETTER XX. 

Fishing — Costume for the woods — Isabel in becoming attire — Men's 
hats and women — The pic-nic-basket — A betrayal of red sealing-wax 
— A merry party — The captain's craft — Towing into port — Cooing — 
The forest brook — The lovers — Lessons in fishing — The dinner in the 
forest — Old Hickory's memory 159 

LETTER XXL 

Ralph Waldo Emerson — His philosophy — A critique — Where his- phi- 
losophy is defective — School for young statesmen — College for diplo- 
mats at Washington — Foreign ministers to be able to speak foreign 
languages — Dickens and his books — Mrs. Fanny Osgood and her 
pen 1C9 

LETTER XXn. 

No more book — Proposed departure to the Springs — The carriage and 
how it was stowed — The cavalcade, not omitting Dickon and his boots 
— The led horse and beautiful mule — Mules aristocratic animals — 
Negroes' admiration for new shoes — Gentlemen's hats — A suggestion 
to promote conversation in the parlor — An expression of thanks in a 
P.S 174 

LETTER XXIIL 

The secret — Visit to Columbia — The birth-place and mother of a presi- 
dent — The Gothic institute — The professor and his halls — The curi- 
osity of a bevy of girls — A lioness — The unlucky poet — Kate's in- 
dignation — The colonel's surprise — The punishment — The forgiveness 
— The dreaded poem 186 

LETTER XXIV. 

The Eden of Tennessee — The editor's excursion — Duck river, or, what 
is in a name ? — A beautiful villa and grounds — Bishop Otey at his 
home — Reflections upon death —Beautiful scenery — The art of smok« 
ing — A few feminine suggestions and criticisms on smoking cigars... 194 



CONTENTS. 11 

LETTER XXV. 

PAGB 

A watering place— Its tedium— The last resort— Description of the 
place— Noon-day scenes-Tlie fit<hiug lawyer and bis horse— The fat 
gentleman and his catastrophe— An ahirui— General waking up— 
Dinner-bell— The bonhoraraie of the slave— Unbroken forest— An 
Ethiopian dinner — Night and its sounds 



200 



LETTER XXVL 



Tlie hoar and pen for writing— The return home— The village of Mou-nt 
Pleasant— Ken Hill and scholarly men— Donald M'Leod— The ne- 
glect of education— Count Meolis— Bonbons— The delights of home 
—Keep moving— A proposed trip to New Orleans— The power of 
song — Jenny Lind ^^^ 212 

LETTER XXVIL 

The novelty of south-western life — An enumeration of objects of in- 

• terest— The young southerner— The fair maiden of the sunny south 

— Run-a-way matches — Sargent's song — Bats in the room — Terror 

of young ladies— The battle and victory— The colonel lectures on 

bats — They devour rausquitoes, not maidens 222 

LETTER XXVIIL 

The baggage— Parting at the park— Pets— The mystery of brute life- 
Scenery — Arrival at the steamer— The noble America— The beauty 
of the verandahs— Elegance and luxury— The promenade— State- 
rooms — Departure of the boat — The last bell 233 

LETTER XXIX. 

The beauty of the Ohio— The pirates' cave- The river robbers— The 
good old keel-boat times— Life on the river fifty years ago — The grave 

beneath the sycamore— The old pilot's story— The assassination 

Revelations of the future— The exquisite and his hat— The deserters 
shot — The pilot house — Father of waters 2-11 

LETTER XXX. 

Entrance into the Mississippi- Meeting of the waters— The dark river 
—The dangers of the Mississippi— Beautiful sun-set- Chain of lakes 
Night on the Avater— The woodmen's fires— The captain's story- 
Signal fires and the ruse— Earthquakes— The bear and alarm 251 



12 CONTENTS. 

LETTER XXXI. 

PA&B 

The city of Natchez — Its elegance — The beauty of its suburbs — Its 
polished people — The mngnoliiis — Drive from town — A superb villa 
— Visit a charming garden — A lovely prospect — Southern flowers — 
The night-blooming cereus — Tlie grave of *' good old Peter" — Reflec- 
tions upon " faithful servants" 259 

LETTER XXXIL 

The old family — The position of governesses in the south — Of tutors — 
The evil of northern interference with the south — The meeting of 
Kate with a friend — The education of southern boys — The dead shot 
— The Indian chief and Sharp's rifle — The Indian grave and the 
Christian chapel — Subject for a poem 267 

LETTER XXXIIL 

Lost needles — The old parson — The carefully entrusted package — Let- 
ter from the editor naming the loss — Reflections upon missing MSS 
— Two parcels lost — Value of manuscripts to authors — *' To be pre- 
served" 276 

LETTER XXXIV. 

In Louisiana — Letters from the prairies — Narrative resumed — The 
steamer in sight — Fort Rosalie — Go on board — Waving of kerchiefs 
— The fawn's leap — Opulence spoils authors — The elegant steamer — 
The mysterious passenger 283 

LETTER XXXV. 

Interior of a packet — The fine old southern gentleman — Happy world 
— Wandering pen — The interesting invalid — Superb piano performance 
of a stranger — Operatic stars— Not Jenny Lind — Who is she? — Mu- 
sical genius of southern women — Biscaccianti — Parodi— Letters from 
Louisiana 289 

LETTER XXXVL 

The lower Mississippi — Scenery on the shores — A vast cotton field — 
Wealth of cotton-planters — The wny to get rich — Baton Rouge — 
The home of General Taylor — Old Whitey — Ladies of Baton Rouge 
— Members of the legislature — Voyage resumed 296 

LETTER XXXVIL 

The old pilot — The red pole — A corsair of Louisiana — The old times of 
river buccaneers — A hint for a story writer — The pirate's death — The 



CONTENTS. 



13 



PAGB 

governor's bride— A bit of roiniince— Senator Benjamin— His ap- 
pearance—Discussion and talent— The intellect of the Jews— Their 
ambition— President of the United States .—' 302 

LETTER XXXVIII. 

The sugar estate— Chateau and quartier— Sucrerie— Cost of opening a 
sugar estate— An enchanting scene— Signal fires— The two convents 
—Education of girls therein— Dame Ursula and her legends— The 
influence of convents over the minds of pupils— Romanism— Prayers 
and pedes ^^^ 

LETTER XXXIX. 

Descendants of the French in Louisiana— View from a balcony— Pass- 
ing steamers-Sugar fields— A Louisianian chateau— The slave village 
—Sugar house— M. de Clery's son— A secret— Proposed visit to New 
Orleans — An engagement — Lovers to be chosen for their good 
temper. ^^^ 

LETTER XL. 

Music by night — Isabel — Musquito-bars— The carriage road— The 
levee— Danger of the dwellers on the " coast"— What a crevasse is 

How it begins and is stopped— The authoress guardian over a lover 

—The midnight tocsin— A conflagration— A prayer for those in 
danger ^22 

LETTER XLL 

First impressions of a city— The foreign aspect of New Orleans— The 
Indian war-whoop — The conductor and the old lords of the soil— The 
poodle-dog— The Frenchman and his bird— The cake — The conversa- 
tion with the prisoner in the cage— The grandpa meets his family — 
The joy of the household- The escapade— The consternation and pur- 
suit, 

LETTER XLIL 

Approach to the city— Gardens and villas— Arrival at the depot— An 
Irish hackraan— Chinaman with kites— Handsome bouquet seller— 
The parrot man— Isidore buys a bouquet— The drive to the St. Louis 
-Its palace-like accommodations 334 



328 



14 CONTENTS. 

LETTER XLirr. 

PAOB 

The leveo at New Orleans— Ride along the quay — The ships of Sweden 
— Jenny Lind, Thorwaldsen, and Frederika Bremer — The half- 
masted flags — The ships of England, France, and Spain— Wharf for 
steamers — The glory and splendor of commerce — The fate of all an- 
cient commercial cities 338 

LETTER XLIV. 

The model hotel-proprietor — Diplomas — Hotel-keeping an art and pro- 
fession — The French part of the city — Shops — The old cigar-smoker 
— Indiflerence to observation of the French — New Orleans composed 
of two cities — Children even speak French — An exile — A German 
prince — nearly all languages spoken in the city 345 

LETTER XLV. 

The peculiarity of the streets — Young ladies taught philosophy — The 
Place d'Armes and its gay scenes — Visit to the cathedral^ Veiled 
lady — The confessional — Secret of power — The picture of the Pas- 
sion — Marlolatry — Reason for it in the inseparability of the Madonna 
and Child— St. Patrick's cathedral— 111 built church 352 

LETTER XLVL 

Return to the country — Correction of error caused by misplaced notes 
— Nicolene — Who is she? — Friendbhip without siglit — A greeting to 
the loved unknown — A wedding in pruspect — Taxes upon taste — Isi- 
dore—Aunt Cloe icing cakes — Bosling-way 360 

LETTER XLVIL 

Danger of postponement of wedding — Objections now to the nuptials 
— Isidore in despair — Kate the consoler — Colonel Peyton condemns 
all fashion — A new idea — M. do Clery is charmed with it — Whipping 
around the stump — The excitement of preparation — What daughters 
exchange for husbands — Blessings on the happy pair 364 

LETTER XLVIIL 

A wedding — Men's curiosity — The dogs, birds, and sable urchins rejoice 
— Old Bonus — A howling dog supposed to be an ill omen — Muzzled 
— The visit to the chapel — The parson and his mule — Beauty of 
scenery — The cliapel — The grave — Rencctiuns upon life and death 
— Parting with the bride fills her heart with tears 371 



CONTENTS. 15 

LETTER XLIX. 

TAfiE 

The cortege — Slave costume — The wreath of orange blossoms — Beau- 
tiful girls — Twenty-four bridesmaids — The wedding— The kissing — 
The congratulations — Return to the chateau — Dinner party — Lost 
and won hearts — Betrayal of a secret — Intended departure for New 
York — An old maid of two and twenty 376 

LETTER. L. 

Preparations for Havanna — Tbe dignity of "Webster — A letter to Charley 
— The unfledged blue bird — The trouble of its parents — Congress of 
the forest dwellers — The efforts of the friends of the unfortunate — 
Kate's compassion — A ladder and cotton— Moral to little boys 3S2 

LETTER LL 

Descending tbe Mississippi— The Balize — Singular appearance of the 
vessels — The beauty of the first night on the gulf — The splendor of 
Orion and Pleiades — Were there ever seven stars ? — The native 
poetry of children 388 

LETTER LIL 

Havanna— The Moro Castle — A line of battle ship — Tlie scenes in the 
streets of Havanna — The British flag — The glory of America — The 
empire of republics — The Triumviri--Who takes their plac-e ? 394 

LETTER LFIL 
New York— Neptune — Calm seas — The living heart under the sea — 
Vessels met in the ocean — Our passengers of ten nations — The Is- 
raelite — What is a Jew ? — Has be a country — The future commeroial 
splendor of the Israelites 399 

LETTER LIV. 

The departure oversea — Leave the cit}'^ — Cars to Boston — M. de Cressy 
^The aspect of Boston— Literary society — Gerraon — Mrs. Partington 
— Her literary ambition and failure — Homeward bound— Quiet of the 
country 405 

LETTER LV. 

My native village— The scenes at home— The visits of neighbors — The 
deacon inquisitive — Bible trees— The new dresses— Buttonhole and 
his seven suits — The proposition to print a book — Tlie proposed title 
— Diffidence of the authoress— Farewell to literature 410 



16 CONTENTS. 

LETTER LVL 

TAax 
A surprise — Marriage of Kate nearly three years ago — Letter from her 

friend, the editor — Letters to be resumed — Little Harry — Little needles 

— Consent to write — Quiet and elegant home — Kate a southern 

matron 415 

LETTER LVir. 

Mistaken for another — The European Miss Conyngham — Letters un- 
written of a tour — The route to Thibodeaux — Bayous and boat-sail- 
ing — Sugar fields — Customs of the people — Saturday gatherings — 
The barges of the planters — A charming country 421 

LETTER LVIIL 

Illawalla or Lover's Lake — Beautiful lawns — The house and grounds 
— Imaginary letter of the. editor — Description of a southern homo — 
Kate's criticisms — Homes and heaven — What constitutes a home — 
The words of Jesus — Cities the results of the fall — Race with a deer 
— The Indian lover's death 430 

LETTER LIX. 

The picture — Aunt Winny — Florette and Harry — Aunt Winny's expe- 
rience — The voice and silver trumpet — The old slave's argument 
about tongues — The vision — The preacher and baptism — The miracle 
and superstition of the slave — Reflection upon negro conversions — 
An answer to an inquiry 437 

LETTER LX. 

Shopping — The new fashion — Chloe and the mode — Dissertation upon 
hats and fashion generally — An acadeniy of fashions — A suggestion 
to the ladies of America — A good result from an American court of 
modes — Preparation for a picnic 448 

LETTER LXL 

The commissariat's department — Harry and the doctor — The baskets 
and parcels — The Xebec — the floating boudoir — Uncle Ned the 
steersman — The two sisters — Louis the lover — Harry not Cupid — The 
bayou — BroakHist en voyage — Accession to the party — The good 
wishes — Harry's accomplishments 453 



CONTENTS. IT 

LETTER LXrr. 

PAGB 

Talkative pens — Thibodeaux — Enter La Fourclie — Tlie voyage begun 
— The torch-light funeral of the nun — The goddess Mary — The 
prophecy and a little theology — The sugar estate — The savaanahs — 
A deer — A.n alligator— The Gulf, ho ! 462 

LETTER LXriL 

Authors and money— The sight of the Gulf— Hoist sail— The sugar 
sloop — Gulf trade — Children's speeches — The condition of the slave 
— Northern interference — Southern humanity — When a black Moses 
is wanted, Heaven will send hiui — The anchoring — Tent pitched — 
An alarm 471 

LETTER LXIV. 

Identity of authors — Speculations — Pen — Names — Our teat lodgings 
— The Revenue Cutter — Successful sport — Visit to Banutaria Bay 
— The apparent volcano at sea — The sphericity of the earth — The 
needle and light-ship — Lafitte's Fort 482 

LETTER LXV. 

The summer resort of Louisianians — The Roman Chapel — ** Mary and 
Paul" — Adoration of the mother — The marquis — The post-mistress 
and her brave father — Captain Hearn — Gentility — The mound and 
Indian warrior — Bathing and swimming 491 

LETTER LXVL 

Leave the Pass — The Oregon — Lake by moonlight — The beauty of the 
sea by night — Meeting a vessel — Grass Patch — The Fleet Anchorage 
The Cutter — Captain Douglas Ottinger, inventor of the Life Car — 
Mobile — Its bay and watering places — Hotels 500 

LETTER LXVIL 

The Southern clime — Society in Mobile — Beauty of suburbs — Society 
Madame Le Vert — Absent in Europe — An adventurer of the female 
sex — "Noble friends" — The jewelry discovery — Flight of the 
e<nintess 505 

LETTER LXVIIL 

Leave the hospitalities of Mobile — Its pleasant people and fine drives 
Sail up the Alabama — Montgomery — Ring left at the hotel — Con- 
ductor's promise — Augusta — Columbia a Paradise — Charleston and 

South Carolinians — The Triumviri 513 

9 



18 . CONTENTS. 

LETTER LXTX. 

FAGB 

An old Virginia Inn— First Families— Walter Raleigli— Scenery of 
Virginia— The son of nobles— The Inn parlor— Sumptuous table- 
Trip to Europe — Farewell •'*2i 



THE SUNNY SOUTH; 



OR, 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 



LETTER I. 

Dear Mr. : 

Not that you are very " dear" to me, for I never 
saw you in all my life, but then one must begin their 
epistles, and as everybody says dear^ and don't mean 
any thing by it, I say dear too, and don't mean any 
thing by it, so don't flatter yourself in the least ; for, 
if it were the fashion, and the whim hit my fancy, I 
should just as likely have written " Bear." You edi- 
tors presume so much, you need to be put down. 

I was going to begin my letter by saying why I call 
my letters "needles." Not, you may rest assured, be- 
cause they are likely to be sharp and keen, for I have 
no doubt that they will be vastly dull, but one must 
have a title, and what must one do for one? Simple 
'■'• Letters" would never tempt the eye. The pill must 
be gilt. You would, no doubt, laugh very good-hu- 
moredly if I should confess to you that I have been 

(19) 



20 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

bothering my poor little head for three hours to-day 
for a title. A celebrated author once told me, — for I 
have seen such lions in my day, and talked and flirted 
with these lords of the quill, too, — that he thought more 
of his "titles" than of the matter of his books, and 
that was no slight matter either ! He said he had 
sometimes written out on a long paper, (like a subscrip- 
tion list, I suppose,) a score of names, and then carefully 
studied them, fancied how they would take the eye of 
the lounger in the book-stores, or the passer-by, who 
should glance at the big poster : he even used to go so 
far as to set the title up in type, an amateur fount of 
which he kept by him for this purpose, before he fully 
fixed upon his " clap-trap.'' 

Now, I can imagine all this to be very necessary, and 
1 give this author credit for no inconsiderable knowledge 
of human nature. Half the novels are bought by their 
titles by half the world. I used to buy them so. 
When I took this weighty fact into consideration, I was 
sore perplexed. "Letters" I was resolved not to have. 
"Epistles" looked like the New Testament, and I felt it 
too sacred a word for me to make light use of; for I was 
very properly brought up to reverence any thing about 
the Scriptures. I thought of " Pen and Ink" sketches — 
a nice title, but Mr. Willis had invented and used it : 
happy gentleman with a gift for happy titles ! for his 
"Pencillings by the Way" is another that came into my 
head, and I tried every way to parody it, but I couldn't 
manage it at all, and gave it up. I thought of " Dots 
and Lines," but somebody had got it before me, and no- 
thing seemed left but Dot and go One; when, in my 
troubles I pricked my finger with a needle tha.t was 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 21 

in my needle-book, which I Avas turning and turning 
in my fingers while I was cogitating about my title. In- 
stantly the idea flashed upon me, and the words, "Nee- 
dles from my Needle-Book !" I seemed to read in the air 
before my eyes. For fear I should forget the happy 
combination, I scribbled it down on the spot, and deter- 
mined to adopt it. 

No doubt you will expect to find something short 
and shrewd, ascetic and attic in my articles, but I pro- 
mise you that you must look for nothing of the kind ; 
for it only takes great authors to write books that have 
nothing to do with their titles, nor their titles with them. 
The only defence I can make of my caption is that it is 
very appropriate to my sex, being a fair weapon either 
of ofi'ence or defence, as well as the glittering shuttle 
of female industry. Would you believe it, sir, my pupil, 
a wicked rogue of a beauty of sixteen, (for you must 
know I am a governess, and but nineteen and a little 
over, myself,) she has seen my title, and says I had bet- 
ter put, " Scissors" to it? Scissors and Needles ! Dear 

us, Mr. ! w^hat would you have thought to have 

opened my package, and had tJiis title met your asto- 
nished editorial eyes ? 

"SCISSORS AND NEEDLES:" 



a 



BY A YANKEE GIRL.' 



You have had in this specimen a touch of my South- 
western pupil's mischief, and you shall know more of 
her by-and-by, perhaps, if you print this letter and don't 
say any thing saucy about it ; for editors, who have lady 
correspondents, ought to be exceedingly well-behaved and 
mannerly, and appreciate the honor done them. Now, 



22 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

having introduced my title to you, how shall I introduce 
myself and all the subjects I intend to let my pen run 
on about ? I shall not give you my name, nor give you 
any clue to it, if you should be never so curious to find 
it out ; for men have so much curiosity ! even where 
there will be, as in pay case, nothing worth the trouble 
of finding out, for I am not so vain as to fancy I shall 
ever be worth asking after. It will take more ink and 
paper than I shall ever destroy, to make a lady who 
would be ^'literary" singled out of the troupes of has 
hleii that fill the land like the golden-winged butterflies 
in May. But I will do what I can to please, for my 
poor, innocent pen has got to travel a weary length, and 
I long to make happy more than one dear heart in this 
world. Authorship is not woman's sphere by nature, 
but by circumstances only. Oh, how many a gentle 
lady has the needle of poverty pricked on to seize, with 
trembling fingers, the awe-inspiring pen ! and dip it into 
her heart, to write out its life for bread ! Weary, oh ! 
"weary is the path to w^oman's little feet — the path fur- 
rowed deep by the ploughshare of penury. In the fur- 
rows she drops the seeds of hope, and waters them with 
tears. It is a rough way this path amid types, and in 
the hustle for popularity and pennies, the sex is not 
spared by the ruder ones, and the critic's iron point, 
that maddens the strong man, pierces to the heart the 
timid woman ! Yet, once started, she must write or die : 
or, worse still, be dependent ; and this, to a proud wo- 
man, is i\iQ first death of this world's deaths. 

Do not think I am going to charge my palette with 
sombre tints, from these few sentences foregoing, or that 
I am in tears because I am for the first time taking up 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 23 

the fearful pen to write for coins of silver. I am young 
and full of hope, and my heart bounds with cheerful 
thoughts. I do not speak in allusion to myself, there- 
fore, when I say that it is a sad lot for a woman to be 
compelled to toil with pen and ink for her bread; for 
the prospect before me is a pleasing one. The very 
idea that probably I shall see in print what I am 
writing, (if it please your pleasure, sir, to print it, 
though little worth it, I fear,) fills my bosom with an in- 
definable sensation of joy, slightly mingled with a timid 
apprehension. I am dj-ing to see myself in type; not 
in the place where marriages are noticed; don't naughtily 
misconceive my meaning, sir ; for I am not going to be 
married till I enjoy myself sensibly as a ''young woman," 
a little longer yet. My situation here is a happy one, 
and if I only lived for myself I should not put pen to 
paper ; for I am blessed with all I require to make me 
contented and grateful. The timid apprehension, I feel 
when I look forward, arises from a creeping doubt which 
once in. a wdiile coils itself around the tree of hope in my 
heart, touching the acceptance of my communications; 
for this doubt insinuates, with very serpent-like wicked- 
ness, that I shall not be proved to be clever enough to 
write any thing worth the printing. But "hope, and 
hope on," is the motto of my adoption, and I shall not 
despair : I never could despair. It seems to me that if 
I stood alone, the last one alive, upon a burning wreck 
in the mid Mediterranean, I should not despair, but be- 
lieve that rescue would come. 

This letter is only an introductory needle, a sort of 
autorial probe, to feel the way ; or rather like the first 



24 THE SUNNY SOUTH: OR, 

needle placed in an electrical battery, to be increased 
afterwards in number, as the patient will bear. 

Your correspondent, 

Kate. 

Dated from Overton Park, beyond the Alleqhanies. 

P. S. In mj next, I will tell you something about our 
Manor-house, and how this West-south land strikes the 
eye of one, cradled as I have been, among the Granite 
Mountains of the Pilgrim Land. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 25 



LETTER II. 

It would no doubt please you, Mr. , to learn 

something about us here at Overton Lodge — for this is 
the name of the fine old Western Homestead for which 
I have exchanged my cold, yet warm-hearted northern 
clime. Overton Lodge, then, please to know, is a large, 
commodious mansion of brick, square and stately, with a 
double storied portico in front, from the upper gallery 
of w^hich is one of the finest landscape views a painter's 
eye — even the eye of the deathless Cole — would care to 
banquet on. In Tennessee? you will say, with a quizzi- 
cal movement of the under lip, and an incredulous drop- 
ping of the outward corner of the nether eyelid. Yes, 
in Tennessee, sir, for Overton Park is in this Western 
Empire State. But, to my sketch — and don't interrupt 
me sir, for any doubts about the verity of my writings, 
for I never romance; ladies can write something besides 
romances, sir! 

Erom this upper portico the view stretches for miles 
and leagues away, to a blue range of boldly beautiful 
hills, that, when the atmosphere is a little hazed, seem 
to be the blue sky itself bending down to repose upon 
the undulating sea of forests, at their base. Between 
these azure walls that bound our horizon westward, and 
the mansion, lie belts of noble woodland, intermingled 
with green intervals, through which wind transparent, 



26 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OK, 

rock-channeled rivulets, (they would call them rivers in 
England,) bordered by fringes of maple, sycamore, and 
oak trees, opulent with verdure. 

Nearer the house, comprising the first breadth of view, 
a mile and a half in width, stretch right and left the rich 
cotton and tobacco fields, like, in the distant coup d'ceil, 
lakes of blue and green water, slightly ruffled by the 
breeze; while their level surface is relieved at pretty in- 
tervals by islands of trees — half acre clumps grouped in 
groves, and left by the overseer for shade, where slaves 
can retire in the fervid noon, to eat their coarse but 
abundant dinner, doubtless to them savory as Parisian 
cuisinerie. The picturesque aspect of these grove-islands 
is enhanced by the white walls of a negro-shelter-hut, 
which is built upon columns to afford protection from the 
rain. 

The "Lodge," being placed with an eye to the capa- 
bilities of the surrounding prospect, upon a gently rising 
eminence, which is clothed with gardens to its foot, has 
a very imposing appearance, as it is approached along a 
winding carriage-way, that leads to it from the stage 
road. This is at least a league off, and its place can be 
indicated on dusty days from the house, by clouds of 
reddish broAvn dust rolled into the air and curlinn* nlons. 
the hedges, disturbed by the heavy wheels of the mail 
coach, or the lighter progress of some planter's carriage 
on its way from town. 

It seemed to me when I first came in sight of the 
mansion, that was to be (I don't know how long) my 
home, that I was approaching the mansion of some 
English Baronet, at least ; and the scenery of this part 
of Tennessee, I am told, bears a striking resemblance to 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 27 

that in the best part of England ; and I can bear testi- 
mony that the neighboring gentlemen are vying in taste 
and wealth with each other, to make this country one of 
the most lovely in the land. For you must know that 
this is an opulent district, and the planters here count 
their estates rather by miles than acres. 

I have described only the view in front of this stately 
edifice, from which I am writing you. From a little 
balcony that opens from my chamber window south, I 
get a view of a vale and upland, dotted with sheep and 
cattle, tended by a blind negro boy, who whistles all 
day, and I have no doubt sleeps soundly all night ; who, 
with his dog, complete a very nice picture of its kind. 
The crest of the upland is topped by a wood, out of 
which, just where the acclivity dips eastward, stares a 
huge, bald, gray rock, in shape as much like a lion's head, 
as either of the heads of those lions on your Exchange 
steps in Philadelphia, for which I am credibly informed 
that a famous dog, belonging to a Monsieur Gar del, a 
talented gentleman of your city, sat ; and very good lions 
they are — very like lions ! If I recollect right, this dog, 
who sat as a model for a jmir of lions, was called " Nep- 
tune." 

I remember once seeing him at West Point, and falUng 
in love with him, (with "Nep," not Monsieur G.,) when 
I was about — about — let me see — thirteen. 

But let me finish my scenery. This lion's-head rock 
hangs over a deep tarn, where at mid-day, the water is 
black and polished as glass ebon ; and near the tarn, not 
five yards from its margin, rises thirty feet in height, a 
green pyramid, one of the sepulchral mounds of the noble, 



28 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

brave, mysterious Indians, now wasted, as McLellan, one 
of the New England poets, says, 

" Like April snows 
In tlie warm noon," 

before the burning radiance of the sun of civilization. 
On the east side of the mansion, there is quite a different 
view from either I have described. First, the eye rests 
on a vast vegetable and fruit garden, a score of good 
roods broad, crossed by wide graveled walks, dotted 
with hot-houses, and enclosed by a white paling, half- 
concealed in a luxuriant hedge of the thorny and beautiful 
Cherokee rose. At two corners of the garden erected 
on high places, is perched a monstrous pigeon house, to 
and fro, above and about which its soft winged tenants 
are flying in clouds at all times, like the scriptural doves 
to their windows. 

Of all birds, I love the dove, the home dove, with its 
blue and brown breast, its affectionate, trustful glance, 
and its musical, happy coo. I have loved them in the 
streets of my native town from a child, and stopped and 
watched them till I forgot school hour, and dinner hour, 
as they fluttered, hopped, sidled, and pranced about the 
fallen oats under the farmer's cart, or crowded about the 
shop doors. 

I never failed to have my pocket filled with grain and 
crumbs for them, and I cannot now but smile at the re- 
collection of myself, at twelve years old, seated on a 
curb-stone, surrounded, and lit upon, and run over, and 
almost had my eyes put out by their wings, as they 
eagerly shared my bounty out of my hands and lap. 
Many a black mark at school for tardiness, and many a 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME, 29 

scolding at home have I to lay to the account of the blue 
doves. Yet I love them still ; and ere long they will find 
out — these in the dove-cotes — that they have a friend 
near ; and I dare say in my little balcony, ere I have 
been here a month, will be enacted the street scenes of 
my girlish days. 

Beyond the garden is a large pond or lake, and on the 
declivity of the opposite shore appears, half hid in the 
trees of its pretty streets, one of the most novel and 
striking towns I ever beheld. It is the " Quartier" or 
African village of the estate, the Negropolis of the slave 
population. It is composed of some thirty dwellings, 
white-washed, one story high, arranged on two streets 
that follow the margin of the pond. Each cottage is 
neat and comfortable, with a small garden patch behind 
it ; and in front are rows of shade trees for the whole 
length of the street, growing near enough to each house 
to aiford shade to the roofs. The streets themselves are 
green sward, intersected by well-trodden footpaths which 
lead from door to door. 

Overlooking them all, and a little higher up the gentle 
ascent, is a house of more pretension, built of brick, with 
a belfry at orte end, containing a bell as loud as a 
church bell, which I hear rung every morning at day- 
break, and at noon, and at nine o'clock at night. This 
house belongs to, or rather is occupied by, the overseer, or 
manager, as these gentlemen prefer being designated. 
Over this house rises a majestic range of mountainous 
heights, of great beauty, from the summit of one of 
which, three miles off, and which is designated by a 
single scathed tree rising from a bosom of foliage, a viov 



30 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

can be obtained, with a good glass, of the city, six 
leagues or thereabouts to the north ; and also of one of 
the shining windings of the romantic Cumberland, as 
it, for a mile or two, leaves its embracing cliffs to roll 
gloriously along in the cloudless sunlight. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 31 



LETTER III. 

You will have formed some idea, Mr. , from 

the descriptions in my last, of the characteristics of the 
place from which I write these communications. You 
will perceive that I am domiciliated in one of those line 
old mansions of the West where the lordly proprietors 
live more like feudal nobles than simple farmers. In the 
bosom of this beautiful scenery which I have endeavored to 
picture to you, and within the walls of this hospitable 
abode, I hope to make my home, at least for two years 
to come. 

Perhaps you would like to know something about me 
before I came here to assume, at the age of nineteen, the 
grave and responsible position of governess. I am quite 
willing to gratify your curiosity. But first let me de- 
scribe to you what is now passing beneath my window, 
for I write within full sight of the lawn. There I can 
see Colonel Peyton, the father of my pupil, seated upon 
a finely formed bay nag, a rifle laid carelessly across his 
saddle, and two fine deer-dogs standing by his horse's 
forelegs and looking up wistfully into their master's face. 
He has upon his head a broad-brimmed, white beaver, 
turned up in front, something after the fashion of the an- 
cient cocked hat, a manner of wearing it that lends him, 
with his manly features and silver gray locks, a decided 
military air. Over a brown linen hunting frock is slung a 



32 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

leather belt, appended to wliicli is liis powder-horn and 
shot-bag ; and with his boots drawn a la Hussar ^ over his 
trowsers, and armed with silver spurs, he sits accoutred for 
the field, a handsome specimen of an American Western 
gentleman preparing for a hunt. Standing just in front 
of his stirrup is a negro fifty years of age, (about his 
master's,) his old straw hat in his hand and his head bent 
forward in an attitude at once respectful and attentive, 
listening to orders from his master. 

" You hear, Pete, that as soon as the young gentlemen 
arrive, you are to mount the filly and bring them to the 
wood." 

^' Yiss, massa !" and Peter bowed like a thorough-bred 
gentleman, so courteous was the air with which he bent 
his head. 

" You will find me either at the Crow's Pine, or else 
about the Salt Lick. See that they bring their guns." 

" Yiss, massa !" 

"And don't let that noisy whelp of yours," here the 
colonel cracked his whip-lash at a wretched, shaggy 
monster of a dog that crouched, as if fully conscious of 
his bad reputation, behind the legs of the negro ; " don't 
let him come into the forest again ; if he does, I'll hang 
him. He spoiled our sport last Thursday." 

"I know he did, mass'. , He berry ignorum dog, some- 
time ; he nebber hab much telligencts like odder gemmen 
dogs, massa; but Injun shan't come dis time." 

The colonel now pointed with the end of his riding 
whip to a gate, which Peter hastened to open; standing 
bare-headed till his master rode through it; and then 
closing it he returned to the house, the villainous-looking 
dog Injun capering about him, as much overjoyed at 



THE POUTIIERNER AT HOME. 33 

being released from the awe of the colonel's eye, as a 
roguish school-boy when the "master" steps out. 

"You mighty grad, Injun, aint you?" I overhear 
Peter say to his companion, "but you better keep quiet 
and min' you' business at home, or sure 'nuff massa 'II 
hab you hang'd. You a'n't fit hunt deer like de gem- 
men's genteel dog, you nigger you; all you do is frighten 
'em away from de stan', and keep massa and oder gem- 
men from gettin' shot at 'em, you scar'crow! Massa 
sarve you right he shoot you, Injun!" 

Peter's voice was lost as he went with a limping shuffle 
around the house. I can see the noble form of the 
colonel as his horse bears him along the avenue, and so 
out across the green dell at an easy pace. Now he stops 
to speak to the poor blind shepherd boy, who raises his 
cap, and seems happy to be noticed. The sheep start 
and bound away before the horse's feet, and the lazy kine 
slowly give him the path. Now he winds about the base 
of the lion's head cliff, and is now lost to sight in the 
dark grove of elm and maple that half conceals the tarn. 
Above his head wheels the black-winged vulture in ap- 
proaching circles, as if he well knew that there was 
always blood to be found in the hunter's path. 

I will return to my room, and resume — myself! But I 
am again interrupted. The ajar door of my elegant 
apartment opens, and a negress of sixteen enters with a 
silver cup of water, upon a silver salver. She is bare- 
footed, and her head is bound -yrith a gay handkerchief 
tastefully and uniquely tw^isted into a sort of oriental 
turban ; for tjie taste of these daughters of Africa is in- 
stinctively Eastern, A blue cotton gown completes her 
simple attire, save a pair of bright brass ear-rings, and 



34 THE SUNXY south; OR, 

a couple of brass and one silver ring upon her shapely 
fingers; for her hands, and fingers, and finger nails, 
though the former are brown as a chestnut, are exquisitely 
shaped. Ugly hands seem to belong to the Anglo Sax- 
ons, I think, especially to those of cold climates ; for the 
farther we go south, the more elegant the female hand. 

The name of the African maid is Eda, which is, I 
suppose, a corruption of Edith. She was given to my 
charge as my waiting-woman, on the first evening of my 
arrival here; and by night she sleeps on a rug at the 
door of my chamber. At first, I was shocked and 
alarmed to have a negress sleep in the chamber with me ; 
but now, I am so accustomed to her presence, and she is 
so willing, so watchful, so attentive, so useful, that I am 
quite reconciled to having her. "Missis, glass water, 
please?" she said, curtseying, and dropping her large 
lustrous eyes wdth habitual submission, as she presented 
the salver. 

I had not asked for water, but I find that it is the 
custom for some one of the servants to go over the house 
several times a day to every person, v/herever they hap- 
pen to be, whether on the portico walking, or in the 
library reading, or even pursuing them into the garden 
to offer them water. This is a hospitable, and in the 
hot weather of this climate, a refreshing custom. South- 
erners are all great water drinkers. At evening, when 
we are seated on the piazza, enjoying the beauty of the 
western skies, sherbet, water, fruit, and even ice creams 
have been brought out to us. Indeed, there seems to be 
some useful person continually engaged in some myste- 
rious corner of this large house, preparing luxuries to 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 35 

dispense through the day to the inmates, and to chance 
visitors, of which there are not a few. 

When I first arrived here, and it has been scarcely a 
month — I was amazed at the number of servants. There 
are no less than seven in the house, and full as many 
more connected with the gardens, stables, and for out- 
door domestic duty, beside the two hundred plantation 
hands that work always in the field as agriculturists ; for 
the domestic slaves and the field slaves are two distinct 
classes on an estate like this, and never interchange 
labor, save indeed, when a refractory house servant is 
sometimes sent into the field, to toil under the hot sun 
as punishment, for a week or so. And the difference is 
not merely in employment, but in character and appear- 
ance.*^ The field servant is heavy, loutish, and slow; his 
features scarce elevated in expression above the mule, 
which is his co-laborer. The domestic servant is more 
sprightly, better clad, more intelligent and animated, 
apes polite manners, and imitates the polished airs of the 
well-bred "white folk." By contact constantly with the 
family, they use better language, have their faculties 
sharpened, and, in a dozen ways, show their superiority 
to the less favored helots of the plough. This superior- 
ity they love to exhibit, and I have been amused at their 
assumption of hauteur when they had occasion to hold 
intercourse with any of the "field hands," sent to the 
house on an errand. 

Altogether the house servants are very different crea- 
tures. Four of them have intelligent faces, are excel- 
lent pastry-cooks, laundresses, dairywomen, and seam- 
stresses, and seem, really, to take as much part and 



80 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OK, 

lively interest m household matters as the matron, their 
mistress. 

" Can you read, Eda?" I asked of my little Timbuctoo 
maid, as I replaced the silver tumbler on the waiter. 
"No, Missis," and her large velvet-black eyes danced in 
their wide pearly spheres, as if she thought it would be a 
fine thing to know how. 

"I know spell my name, missis. Missy Bel teach me 
dat!" 

In my next you shall, certainly, have a little account 
of myself; but I feel myself of so little importance, that 
the least thing tempts my pen away from the egotistical 
theme. 

Yours respectfully, 

Kate C. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 3T 



LETTER IV. 

Just as I was about to drop my pen into mj ink- 
stand to commence this epistle, the clear, startling crv 
of a hunter's horn in the forest drew me to the window, 
which overlooked the south, and the cliff called the 
Lion's head. Just emerging from the wood was a caval- 
cade, that reminded me of something of a similar de- 
scription Scott has in one of his romances. First, there 
rode the colonel, our "lord of the manor," bare-headed, 
his gun laid across his saddle-bow, and his hunting skirt 
open at the collar, and thrown negligently back over his 
shoulders. By his side were some half dozen dogs, 
trottino- alono; with their red tons-ues lollino- out and look- 
ing, for all the world, thoroughly beat out with the day's 
chase. Behind the colonel came a negro, mounted, with 
a wounded dog laid across the neck of his horse. Be- 
hind the negro, riding on elegantly shaped horses, cantered 
two young men, one of them very handsome, but dressed 
in a frock coat, and gaiters of blue cottonade. His rifle 
was slung at his back ; he was belted, and a knife and a 
powder flask were in his girdle. His companion was 
more fashionably dressed, and instead of a rifle carried 
only a light bird gun. In the rear followed two negro 
men on foot, bearing between them a slain deer, slung 
by the fetlocks to a newly-cut branch. Two or three 
African boys, and some half dozen more dogs completed 



88 THE SUNNY south; or, 

the cortege. One of the young men (the handsome one 
in the kerseys) carried a horn, which, ever and anon, he 
wound cheerily to give notice at the Lodge of their ap- 
proach. So I will leave them to make their way to the 
house, and fulfil the promise made in my last, to let you 
understand why a Yankee girl finds herself a dweller in 
the far South-west. 

Shall I hegin in the true romantic vein, Mr. , or 

in the style biographique ? I think I will, for the sake 
of trying my forte that way, assume the manner of the 
tale-writers ; for perhaps one of these days, who know^s ? 
I may get to the dignity of being a story-writer to the 
Ledger or magazines, a distinction (all things being equal 
— that is, the quid being equal to the quo as my brother 
used to say) I should feel highly honored, I confess, to 
arrive at. Noav to my own story : 

Once upon a time there stood in a New England 
village, not far from Portsmouth, in N. H. a little cottage, 
white, with a portico trellised by honeysuckles, and a 
little gate in the paling in the front of it. The cottage 
stood upon a quiet street, near the outskirts of the 
village, and was so near the river-bank, that I, who was 
one of the "cottagers," could toss pebbles into its lucid 
bosom from my window. It was a quiet spot, this village 
with its garden-buried houses, its one tin-plated spire, 
shining in the sun like a silver "extinguisher," its green 
river shores, and pleasant woodlands where the boys had 
famous bird's-nesting of Saturday afternoons. 

My father, a naval ofiicer of name and honor, fell 
sick and died on a foreign station, leaving my mother 
with six little mouths to feed, and six little backs to keep 
warm, and six little heads to fill with learning. To aid 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 39 

her to do all this, she received a narrow pension allowed 
her for her widowhood. It was a sore struggle for the 
mother to guard and nourish and cover her large brood 
with such narrow wings. Her widowed feathers would 
hardly cover us all, and sornc of us always were suf- 
ferers, either for supper, a pair of shoes, or may be a 
frock, or jacket, or a necessary school-book. 

But Providence takes care of the widow, and so none 
of us perished ; nay, were ever sick, and what with kind 
neighbors, (oh, how many kind neighbors there are in the 
world !) what, with presents of Christmas-days, Thanks- 
giving-days, and the blessed Common-school where we all 
went without cost, we managed to weather the beginning 
of life bravely. 

Charles, my elder brother, through the kindness of 
the member of Congress from our district, had his name 
presented to the Secretary of the Navy for a midship- 
man's warrant ; but, none offering, soon the same kind 
influence placed him in West Point as a cadet, and now 
he is a lieutenant, and won, though it is a sister's praise, 
a distinguished name on the fields of Mexico. If I dared 
name him, sir, you would at once bear testimony to the 
truthfulness of my eulogy. 

The second child, a daughter, after as good an edu- 
cation as the village school offered, was chosen at the 
age of sixteen as its assistant, and after three years she 
married a young minister, near Norfolk, Va., who sub- 
sequently went abroad as a missionary, and is now a 
resident in a far, far land. 

The third child was a son, who, inspired by the tales 
of his father's exploits on 1)hc ocean during the war, 
went to sea, before the mast, as he said, "to win a 



40 THE SUNNY south; or, 

name." Seven years have elapsed since his departure, 
and he has not been heard from, and I fear that we shall 
meet no more in this life. He was a noble, bold, chival- 
rous boy, and my mother's joy ! If he is alive, I know 
that he is yet worthy of om* love and pride. 

The fom'th child is your humble correspondent, of whom 
I will speak when I have dismissed the remaining two. 

The fifth is a girl ; but alas ! she is an invalid, having 
a lame hip, which confines her to the house. She is the 
loveliest flower of our family parterre ! Never were such 
deep, dark, glorious eyes as hers ! They speak ! Her 
face is exquisitely shaped, every feature as soft and spi-- 
ritual as the gentle angel faces we see in dreams ! I 
can behold her now — the enchanting Ida, seated by my 
mother's knee on her favorite stool, her heavenly face 
of pure intelligence blended with love, upturned with a 
smile. She is now sixteen, but there is so much wisdom 
in her eyes, so much gravity in her manner, the result 
of suffering, that she seems twenty. But her figure is 
child-like, and faultless as that of the chiseled Greek 
Slave ! Noble Ida ! If thy eyes should rest on these 
lines, accept, sweet sister mine, this tribute of love and 
memory ! She is my mother's second self, the partner 
of her hours, the confidant of her heart's secrets, the 
angel of her presence. 

The sixth is a boy, a buoyant, laughing, rollicking 
boy, with spirits enough in him for half a dozen girls, 
of whom, however, he is as shy as if he had no fine, 
handsome face to commend him to the romping hoydens. 
He is just nine years old, and the hahy ! He has no 
idea of books, and never oould bend his fingers to pen- 
holding. His genius lies in kite-flying, fishing, rabbit- 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 41 

snaring, bird's-nesting, boating on the river, and in rid- 
ing the minister's old blind horse to water, full gallop, 
a feat, (that is, the galloping,) the minister could never 
succeed in getting out of him. This brother is his mo- 
ther's other joy ; or, rather, Ida is her joy, and Preble 
(so named by my father after the gallant commodore) 
is her admiration. 

NoAV, if you have listened as becomes you to listen 
when a '^fa^^'e ladye" speaks, you know all about my 
family and myself. No — not myself. Be patient, and 
you shall have your ignorance enlightened on this score. 
Shall I describe myself? or shall I leave you to guess 
that my height is five feet four, that my hair is a dark 
brown, and worn smoothly so as to hide both ears like a 
coif, and knotted behind in very abundant folds ; that 
my cast of beauty is brunette ; that my eyes are said to 
be like my sister Ida's, only less, that is to say, a little 
more saucy in their brilliancy ; that my nose is a very 
good nose as noses go ; that I have a good mouth and 
very fine teeth, which I don't show too much when I 
smile ; that I usually dress in white in summer and ma- 
roon in winter, and that my hand is — is — like too many 
of the hands of northern maidens, better looking in a 
glove than out of one ? I do not sing at all. I never 
was taught the piano, for you must by this time be aware 
that our little cottage had no room for such a costly 
aff*air, though somehow the instrument does seem to find 
room in a great many houses too small for it ! I do not 
dance, for we had no dancing-school in our village, and 
our mother was too sensible to have sent me to one if 
there had been. She knew that there were temptations 
enough in this naughty world to surround young people, 



42 THE suNXY south; or, 

without adding to them tlie love of dancing, which 
tempts many a sweet, good girl into many a folly, after- 
wards bitterly repented of. Parlor dancing, in the home 
circle, where grandpa joins in it, that is the only danc- 
ing that is truly innocent and cheerful. I draw, for my 
mother taught me ; I sometimes sketch, and color my 
eftbrts ; I speak and write French, being taught this by 
my brother when he came home at intervals from West 
Point. I have mastered German and Italian, and know 
enough of Spanish to pronounce correctly the names of 
all our victorious battle-fields, — a no mean acquisition in 
itself, they are so numerous. Lastly, I am a governess, 
and am aiming, with all modest diffidence and deference 
to your decisions, dreadful sir, to be an authoress. 

When I had attained my fifteenth year, I also was ad- 
vanced to be assistant in the school where I had been 
educated from a child. After two years' pleasant toil, 
I heard that in Massachusetts there were institutions, 
called Normal Schools, where young females were edu- 
cated to be teachers. Having some money, the fruits of 
my teaching, I applied to be received into this noble 
school, and after due time I received my diploma, attest- 
ing my qualifications to teach. I soon obtained a school 
in a considerable town, and had no expectations of doing 
any thing else than growing gray in my vocation, when, 
about a year and a half after I had come to the town, as 
I was locking up my castle one evening after my day's 
duties were over, my attention was drawn to a handsome 
private carriage rolling along the road. In it sat a fine- 
looking man, with the unmistakeable air and aspect of a 
Southerner, and by his side was a young girl of fifteen 
or sixteen, with that rich olive cheek and Italian form 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 43 

of face which distinguishes the maidens of our more 
sunny South. 

My school-house was a very pretty one, with a hand- 
some portico, green blinds, granite steps, a grassy yard, 
and neat, snow-white fence, while trees shaded as well 
as adorned the premises. I saw him cast his eyes over 
the whole with a pleased look, and then his gaze fell 
upon me. I dropped my eyes, and taking out the keys, 
put them in my bag, and was turning to go homeward, 
when I saw the carriage stop. The gentleman, who was 
a man of fifty, with a fine bearing, and gray and brown 
locks mingled about his forehead, raised his hat, and 
com-teously beckoned to me to approach. 

"Pardon me, Miss," he said, in that half apologetic 
tone which marked the thorough-bred gentleman, " May 
I take the liberty to inquire if you are a teacher?" 
I bowed affirmatively. 

" You will excuse the liberty I take, but I am desir- 
ous of obtaining a teacher to go south-west with me, 
and having applied to the Normal School, I was directed 
to this town by the Principal, who told me that there 
was a young lady here whom I could, no doubt, succeed 
in employing. As he spoke so highly of her, and gave 
me her address, I have driven here to have an interview 
with her. You will be likely to know her abode, and 
will oblige me by directing me to it." 
"What is her name, sir?" I inquired. 
"Miss Catharine Conyngham," he read off from the 
back of a letter. 

I started with surprise and pleased confusion. He 
saw my embarrassment, and read plainly the secret in 
my tell-tale face. 



44 THE >sUi^NY south; or, 

"Perliaps," he added, with a look of gratification, 
" perhaps I have the pleasure of addressing the very 
person — Miss Conyngham herself?" 

I informed him that I was that person, when, inter- 
changing a glance of satisfaction with the young lady, 
he handed me the letter, and requested me to read it ; 
but first that I must get up into the carriage and sit 
down, but this courtesy I declined, and breaking the 
seal I read as follows : — But I will defer the letter to my 
next, as I am invited down to look at the slain deer in 
the back gallery. 

Yours, 

Kate. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 45 



LETTER y. 

I HAVE to apologize to you, sir, for not keeping you 
in "Needles," and I hope you will not say any thing 
very naughty, because you have not heard from me so 
long. I have been traveling, and could not devote any 
time to my pen. You know that it is the custom for 
planters to leave their homes for the summer months, 
and tour it; and, being governess, I, of course, accom- 
panied our family, in order to keep up my pupils in their 
books, though little book was learned, be assured, either 
at the mountains or the springs, for young folks have 
too much to tempt them at these places to con lessons. 

After a pleasant summer jaunt, we are once more in 
our lovely home, and I trust I shall be able to continue 
to write you in my leisure. Perhaps, one of these days, 
I may give you a description of our three months in the 
Mountains of Cumberland, and at the Springs of Vir- 
ginia. I will now resume my "Needles" where I left 
off, which, perhaps, you will remember was when I had 
just shut up my village school, and broken the seal of 
a letter handed to me by a strange gentleman in a car- 
riage. The letter was as follows, written by the super- 
intendent of the State Normal School : — 

Normal School. 

Dear Miss Conyngham: 

The bearer is Colonel Peyton, a planter of intelli- 
gence and fortune, who wishes a governess, who will be 



46 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

charged with the education of his daughter. The posi- 
tion seems to be a very desirable one, and I would re- 
commend you to accept it, if he should, after seeing you, 
offer it to you. 

Truly your friend, 

B. W. 

Upon reading this epistle, I looked up and saw the 
eyes of both Colonel Peyton and his daughter fixed upon 
my face, as if trying to divine the effect it had upon me. 
The gentle eyes of the maiden, who looked earnestly at 
me, as if she hoped I was not going to say ''no," and 
the gentlemanly, agreeable manners, and the fine expres- 
sion of the father's face, decided me at once. " If the 
place is offered to me," said I, mentally, "I will not 
refuse it. I know I shall be happy with such persons 
as those." Yet I hesitated and could not speak ; for I 
thought of my little pupils, some of whom had entwined 
themselves around my heart ; and I felt reluctant to 
leave them. 

While I was thinking between hope and sorrow what 
answer I should make — an answer that w^ould perhaps 
govern my future destiny — Colonel Peyton was pleased 
to say kindly : 

" I fear. Miss, that you are going to disappoint us. 
The high terms in which you have been spoken of to me, 
are confirmed by seeing you. Are you willing to accept 
the situation alluded to in the letter?" 

I hesitated. My eyes filled with tears — tears at the 
thought of parting with my school — tears of gratitude, 
that I was thought worthy of so much confidence. 

"Oh, do not refuse — do say yes,'' cried his lovely 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 47 

(laughter, extending her hand, and clasping mine warmly 
in her own. " You shall be my eldest sister, and I will 
make you as happy as I can. Please, say you will go 

with us." 

^'I cannot refuse," said I, smiling at her enthusiasm. 
"If your father wishes, I give my consent," answered 
I, without a thought about terms : for I felt that I could 
be happy to be one of the inmates of the family, and 
call such excellent persons "friends." My heart seemed 
to feel like a daughter's heart towards Colonel Peyton, 
and certainly glowed with sisterly love towards Isabel. 

" The matter is settled, then," said Colonel Peyton, 
with animation. " We are more fortunate than we anti- 
cipated. Come, Miss Katharine, let me drive you to 
your residence, and then leave you to make preparations, 
while we remain at the hotel." 

When I alighted from the chariot at the door of the 
house in which I boarded, there were a great many heads 
at the neighboring windows, to see the fine "Boston 
carriage," as they called it ; and when they soon learned, 
by the cries of three or four little girls, my scholars, that 
it had come to take me far away to the South, there was 
more commotion than I dreamed such a body as I could 



cause. 



When I made known to my landlady and to the neigh- 
bors, who flocked in to hear the news, my prospects, 
some congratulated me, but more said they would not 
part with their "school-mistress," that it would break 
the children's hearts ; and the children, inspired by their 
words, began to cling round me, and take on so dread- 
fully, that I was near sending over word to the tavern 



48 THE STJXNY south; or, 

to Colonel Peyton, withdrawing my consent to go with 
him. 

In half an hour I succeeded in convincing: the most 
zealous of my friends, that it would be greatly to my 
advantage to go with the Southern family, and, by bed- 
time, all opposition, save in the form of a lovely little 
lame scholar of mine, was appeased. This child, to 
which I was very much attached, would not leave the 
house to go to its home, but, creeping up stairs, clung to 
my pillow, and bathed it in tears. Her little prayers of 
entreaty had nearly conquered me. The result of all 
was, however, that the succeeding afternoon, I bade fare- 
well to all my village friends, and left the town by the 
road passing the school-house. Here, to my surprise, 
and to the increase of my grief, I found all my scho- 
lars, some forty in number, drawn up to see me for 
the last time. They had reached the school-house by a 
path across the fields. Colonel Peyton stopped the car- 
riage, and every one climbed up to kiss me — some put- 
ting wreaths upon my head, and others placing in my 
hands little tokens to remember them by. 

"Don't forget me. Miss Kate !" cried a score of little 
voices. "We'll never forget you. Miss Kate!" called 
out others, as we once more drove on. My little, lame 
pupil was not among them, for I had left her sobbing as 
if her heart would break, up stairs on my bed. As the 
carriage turned and hid the town, we heard a shout of 
" Good-bye, Miss Kate ! Good-bye ! Come back again, 
won t you i 

Their voices no longer heard, I gave vent to my feel- 
ings in a gush of tears. Colonel Peyton did not disturb 



THE SOFTHERXER AT HOME. 49 

them. Isabel nestled her hand in nihie, and I felt her 
tears dropping warm upon it. 

The same evening, we reached Boston, and in a few 
days afterwards were en route to the West, by the way 
of Philadelphia and Pittsburg. 

I will not detain you by describing our journey, but 
close this letter by saying, that after a delightful trip of 
three weeks, we reached the elegant, ii>terior city of 
Nashville, from which a ride of two hours and a half 
brought Colonel Peyton and his daughter home, and me 
to what will be "a home" for me two years to come. 

In my next, I will resume the description of things in 
the West, which I have interrupted to give you the his- 
tory of my first coming thither. 

I am, sir, yours, respectfully, 
4 Kate. 



50 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 



LETTER VI. 

Mr, . 

I HAVE seen in your paper a little notice of my letters 
by some lady, (I am sure it was a female,) who takes me 
to task for writing about myself. She says it does not 
matter what the color of an authoress's eyes are, or 
whether she have small or large hands, or feet; and she 
takes it upon herself to box my ears for talking about 

myself. Now, Mr. , I think that a great deal can 

be learned about an authoress, by knowing the hue of 
the eyes, and the number of the shoe or glove she hides 
foot or hand in. It don't matter much, perhaps, whether 
a man who writes an arithmetic, or a woman who writes 
a geography, have gray locks or red, long noses or 
short, beards or no beards, for I have seen, (ah, shock- 
ing!) women Avith beards, and thoy always seem to be 
proud of them, the way they cherish them! While I 
write, I recall a " lady" with four moles on her chin, each 
of which is tufted with a respectable camel's hair pencil. 
Do not such monsters know there are such inventions 
as tweezers? 

When one writes to interest, and writes one's thoughts, 
then it is agreeable to the reader to know something 
about the writer's person. I am sure (now don't call me 
vain, lady critic severe) that my readers will not like me 
any thing the less for the description I have given of 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 51 

myself. I see also that one of your readers wishes to 
know the address of the "Yankee Girl," and that you 

decline giving it. Very good, Mr. ; and pray, who 

gave it to you? How coolly you decline to give what 
you do not possess ; for I am sure you could not tell how 
to reach me by a letter, if you wished to do so. But 
one of these days, if I see a paragraph in your paper, 
saying that after my ten trial "needles" are written, 
you will engage me to persevere in authorship, I will 
then remove the veil. 

I have already described to you the happiness I enjoy 
in my new and stately home, the appearance of things, 
and the beautiful scenery with which the villa is sur- 
rounded. I will now give you some account of the man- 
ner in which we pass the day on the plantation, and 
every day is pretty much the same, save when Sunday 
comes, or a party of visitors from town, or from some 
neighboring plantation arrives. About half past four in 
the morning, I am regularly awakened by a bell, as loud 
as a college or chapel bell; which is rung in the belfry 
of the overseer's house, to call the slaves up. Its clear 
lively peal continues for about three minutes. I open 
my eyes, see that all is dark, and then sink to sleep 
again. Or if I lie awake, I soon hear the tramp of the 
laborers passing along the avenue, and the jingling of 
horse chains, as the horses and mules are led by to the 
field. All is soon again still as midnight ; for the plan- 
tation bell does not disturb the domestic servants in the 
house, who generally indulge in bed a half hour longer. 
I believe that I am the only one in the house that the 
bell disturbs ; yet I do not begrudge the few minutes' 



52 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

loss of sleep it causes me, it sounds so pleasantly in tlie 
half-clreamy morning. 

About six o'clock I am awakened for tlie day, by the 
soft footstep of my pretty negress Eda, who steals to my 
bedside to whisper — "Missy Kate, six o'clock, missy," 
and next goes- to withdraw the curtains, and let in the 
glorious sumbeams, to gild the atmosphere of the room. 
She then brings me a laver of cool fresh water from the 
spring, and snowy napkins ; and for the first three or 
four mornings after my arrival, she brought me a wine 
mint julep. Yes, sir, a regular mint julep ! And when 
I refused it, spite of its delicious taste and aroma, (for I 

am a Daughter of Temperance, Mr. ,) she opened 

her large eyes with wonder, saying, '^Why, missy, dey 
nebber so nice!" Her assurance, that it was the custom 
of the house to guests, never moved me, though I must 
confess they looked very tempting. When she found 
that I was not to be tempted, she brought me coffee, 
black, and clear, and fragrant enough for a Turkish Sul- 
tana. But I had been raised in the plain, simple, Yankee 
way, and so had no use for such luxury, and have ban- 
ished both julep and coffee before I get up in the morn- 
ing. 

My sable maid aids me in my toilet, combs and twists 
my long hair with the grace and art of a Parisienne, and 
makes herself most useful. Indeed one does not know 
of how many uses a servant may be, till one has one, as 
I have now for the first time in my life. How differently 
brought up are we Yankee girls from the Southern girls, 
who never do any thing themselves, being always at- 
tended by a shadow of a little negress, or an ancient 
mammy! For my part, I find it very pleasant: — "Eda, 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 53 

a g]<ass of water;" or, ^'Eda, bring me such a book from 
the parlor below;" or, "Eda, hand me mj fan;" or, 
" Eda, a dozen other things." Oh, it is very convenient ; 
and I do believe a Northern girl in these circumstances, 
will, in a year, render herself more helpless than even a 
Southerner to the manor born. 

At seven, a clear-ringing, silver table bell calls all from 
their rooms to the breakfast apartment, which is a 
spacious, cool piazza, shut in bj green blinds, and adorned 
with cages of mocking and canary birds, which sing all 
the meal time. 

Breakfast usually consumes half an hour. Four or 
five varieties of warm bread load the table, with succotash, 
and hominy, and ham always. Two men and two 
negresses, all well dressed and in white aprons, wait on 
table, and anticipate every wish. The colonel always 
asks a devout blessing, all being seated, and all respond 
a loud "Amen." Two noble dogs generally crouch 
either side of the colonel's arm chair, and a monstrous 
Maltese cat, having taken a liking to me, seats herself 
by my chair with a wistful look. After breakfast the 
colonel lights a cigar at a coal brought him, unbidden, 
by a negro boy, for he knows his master's habits; and 
another servant holds a ready saddled horse at the 
door. ~ 

The colonel mounts him, and rides away to overlook 
his estate, sometimes accompanied by Isabel and me, 
when we have brave gallops home alone. About nine 
o'clock we take to our books or our needles, and sit 
Avherever we choose; in our rooms, in the breezy hall, on 
the piazza, or in the drawing-room. At eleven an at- 
tentive servant brings refreshments, when studies and 



54 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

needles are dropped, and we have gossip, music, and 
sometimes jump the rope, swing, or play at battledore. 
If we have calls to make, the carriage is ordered at half- 
past eleven, and after a drive of two hours or three, we 
return to dine at two o'clock. 

The dinner table is placed in the large central hall of 
the house, and every dish elegantly served. Above the 
table is a huge silk covered fan, the breadth of the table. 
Tassels are attached to it, and it is fringed with crimson. 
From rings in the corners lead red cords, which are 
pulled to and fro by a little negro, all dinner time. 
This regular and ceaseless movement of the fan above 
our heads creates an agreeable breeze, which in this 
climate is most luxurious. The dinner consists of many 
courses, with wine and dessert of fruit, sweetmeats, ices, 
nuts, domestic grapes, and black coffee. The ladies 
then leave the gentlemen at the table to smoke, and re- 
tire to their own rooms to sleep till the cool of the day. 
The "lords" sometimes at hunting dinners sleep at the 
table. 

Towards evening all is animation. Saddle horses are 
ordered, and away we scamper, now to the tarn, or to 
climb the lion's head, or to canter along the turnpike. 
We generally get back by twilight in fine spirits. Tea 
and coffee are handed to us whenever we choose to have 
it, no table being ever set for the evening repast. It 
takes three servants to hand it. One comes with a waiter 
of napkins first; another follows with cofi'ee and sugar; 
a third with cakes of all sorts, and sometimes a fourth 
with purple finger glasses. In the evening we all as 
semble in the brilliantly lighted parlors, where we have 



THE SOUTHERNEK AT HOME. 55 

music, play at chess, (tlie colonel and I take a game at 
backgammon usually,) read, or talk. By ten we all re- 
tire; and soon the house is buried in the repose of mid- 
night. So pass the happy days at Overton Lodge. 

Yours, 
Kate. 



56 THE SUNNY SOUTH; 0R» 



LETTER VII. 

Mr. 

Have you ever been fox hunting? If you have, 
you have seen very respectable, rough and tumble en- 
joyment ; if yon have not, there are yet before you certain 
experiences. 

I have already spoken of the fine, broadly spread 
landscape, visible from the portico of Overton Park 
Lodge. In the late autumnal months when the crops 
are well gathered, and there is nothing to trample down 
in the fields, this wide landscape is converted into a vast 
fox hunting ground, full eleven miles across. By con- 
cert the neighboring planters open their fences with 
many a gap across the country, and so a clear ride of 
ten or twelve miles is left free to the adventurous hunts- 
man or huntswoman. 

Two evenings ago as I was about to mount my beauti- 
ful dapple mule, (don't laugh at my mule, for it is the 
dearest little fellow with ears like velvet, and feet and 
fetlocks like an antelope's, a special gift to me for its 
beauty and gentleness, from Colonel Peyton,) to pace 
down the avenue to the turnpike, I was surprised to see 
suddenly appear in sight a party of seven young gentle- 
men. They were riding at top speed, and in great glee, 
and all came dashing up toward the villa at that rapid 
rate the Tennesseean loves to ride. 



THE SOUTHERNER. AT HOME. 57 

''Ah, my boys," cried the colonel, "who was about to 
ride out with me, removing his foot from the stirrup, 
•while I hesitated whether to remain on the flight of steps 
or fly from such a battalion. "Don't go, Miss Kate. 
They are only some of the young fox hunters come over 
to make preparations." 

And before I could escape — 

"Miss Conyngham, gentlemen!" 

The young men, who drew up their horses on seeing a 
lady, lifted their caps and hats, and I was struck with 
their general appearance ; four of them being fine-looking, 
yet dressed in blue linsey-woolsey, with boots pulled on 
over their pantaloons; and the other three in thick coats 
and caps, or broad felt hats slouched behind — a very 
common head covering in these parts and not unpictu- 
resque. Every young man was armed with a gun, and 
attended at least by two dogs, and beautiful creatures 

some of them were — not the young men, Mr. , but 

the hounds. 

"Well, colonel, we have come over to settle upon the 
day," said one of the young gentlemen. 

"That is right! I like to see the rising generation 
prompt to engage in such noble sports. I think that the 
day after to-morrow we will give Reynard our compli- 
ments in person. I will have my men ready, and if you 
will meet me at the edge of the wood, by the lion's head 
clifi", at six in the morning, we will do our best for a day's 
sport." 

"We'll be there, colonel," Avas the response; "and 
then we shall stand a chance of bringing down a deer or 
two," added one of them. "I saw one on the ridge by 
the creek as I rode over." 



58 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

''No doubt we shall see plenty of sport. And you must 
accompany us, Miss Kate," added the colonel turning to 
me, as I stood with the bridle of my mule in my hand, 
trying to check his restive movements, for the prancing 
horses of the young men fired his ambition to prance 
too. 

After sufi'ering myself to be urged a little by two of 
the young gentlemen, I consented to join the party, if 
other ladies did so. The cavalcade then escorted us to the 
gate of the main road, and the horsemen separated each 
to his own home ; while the colonel and I took a forest 
road, that, after a league's windings, came out near the 
villa. As we rode, the colonel entertained me with a 
great many anecdotes of hunting, from Bruin to the 
Hare. As we approached the mansion on our return, 
the avenue was temporarily blocked up by not less than 
fifty slaves of both sexes ; for it was now twilight, and 
they had just completed their day's work, and were 
wending their way to their village, or qiiartier. 

The women carried hoes upon their shoulders, and 
trudged along, some dull, and with expressionless faces, 
others laughing and singing. The men, I remarked, were 
more cheerful than the women, and had more lively 
countenances. One and all were clad in their coarse 
white cloth, known as negro cloth — the men with straw 
hats and the women with handkerchiefs upon their heads. 
I have not yet seen a negro w^oman wear a bonnet on 
Sundays, it is only a gayer kerchief. 

As we passed, they drew up on each side of the narrow 
road for us to pass — the men all taking olF, or touching 
their hats, and replying with a smile to their master's 
salutation of "Good evening, boys!" and the women — 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 59 

some of them, slightly nodding, but witliout the smile. 
One of them had a huge cotton basket upon her head. 

"Peep into it," said the colonel, as I rode bv. I did 
so, and beheld four little cunning black babies! — they 
were nestled together, and quite naked. These babies 
had been taken by their mothers to the field, and while 
they were at work, were placed under the care of the girl 
who had them in charge. 

I am already getting reconciled to slavery, since I find 
that it does not, in reality, exhibit the revolthig horrors 
I was taught in the North to discover in it. There are 
many things to admire and to interest one in the social 
and domestic condition of the slaves, and I am almost 
ready to acknowledge that the African is happier in 
bondage than free ! At least one thing is certain : nearly* 
all the free negroes I have ever seen in the North were 
miserable creatures, poor, ragged, and often criminal. 
Here they are well clad, moral, nearly all religious, and 
the temptations that demoralize the free blacks in our 
northern cities are unknown to, and cannot approach 
them. 

As we drew near the front of the villa, my mule, not 
liking the shrill cry of a superb peacock, which conceived 
the idea of welcoming us with a song, and a resplendent 
unfolding of his prismatic-eyed tail, started to run with 
me at top speed. I am a tolerable rider, and as I could 
not fall far if I were thrown, the mule being so little and 
low, I did not feel half the alarm the colonel manifested 
for my safety, who began to ride after me ; when finding 
his horse only gave fresh impetus to the speed of my 
mule, he drew rein, and called to a negro man to stop 
my career. But the mule was not to be stopped. In- 



60 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

stead of taking the carriage-way, he bolted across the 
lawn, and made straight for the stable. To stop him was 
impossible. I found I might as well pull at a granite 
column as at his jaws. The door of his stable was open, 
and I saw that he would only stop at his crib. I measured 
the ground to spring to it, but the dreadful idea that my 
skirt might entangle with the horns of the saddle, de- 
terred me. In another moment the stable was reached ! 
The door was open. I threw myself forward, clasped 
neck and mane, and stooping low went safely in with 
him. The suddenness with which he stopped at his 
manger, tossed me into the rack, out of which I was taken 
unhurt, and with many a joke and laugh upon my mule 
race. But a mule race is not a fox hunt, you say ! Bide 
a wee, sir. 

Yours, 
Kate. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 61 



LETTER VIII. 

In mj last, I said I would give you an account of a 
foX'itiiit, but ended my letter with a mule-race. But 1 
will now redeem my pledge. Early in the morning, the 
day but one after the party of young men called at the 
lodge, we all were up with the ringing of the overseer's 
bell. By six o'clock we were assembled in the hall, 
where a lunch and a cup of hot coffee awaited us. By 
half-past six, ten of us in the saddle, including three 
ladies, were cantering at a brisk rate down the avenue, 
in the direction of a gate which led into the wide cotton 
fields, spread a league away beyond the villa. Not less 
than seven Africans, mounted, or on foot, brought up 
the rear of our cavalcade. 

Reaching the gate, which one of the impatient young 
gentlemen opened almost at a speed, managing his horse 
adroitly the while, we dashed through, and emerged in 
the old hickory grove, the smooth grass of which glittered 
with dew-drops. The woods echoed with the tramp of 
our horses, and the laugh and merry talk of the young 
men and ourselves, not excluding the white-locked 
colonel, whose cheerful voice rose above all others. 
After a spirited gallop of half a mile through the grove, 
we emerged upon an open field, where once corn had 
grown, but which, having been harvested, left a desolate 
waste. In the midst of this field was a ravine, thickly 



62 THE SUNNY SOUTH: OR, 

grown with bushes, which was known to be a favorite 
haunt of Reynard. The negroes, who had followed us 
with the dogs, were now called up, and ordered to ap- 
proach the thicket, and stir up such gentlemen of the 
red brush as might sojourn therein. The order to ad- 
vance was obeyed by the negroes and dogs with emulous 
alacrity. It was, for the first hundred yards, a laughable 
race between quadruped and biped; but the last were 
distanced, and the dogs reaching the covert, dashed into 
it, a dozen in all, in perfect silence of tongue. But the 
negroes kept up an incessant yell as they neared the 
bushes, which they began to beat, uttering loud shouts 
and challenges to master Keynard to "come out and 
show hisself like a gemman, and not to be 'fraid of white 
folks." 

Reynard, however, did not feel inclined to respond to 
their polite and repeated invitations. The dogs, in the 
meantime, were busy in the ravine. We could hear 
them crashing about over the dry sticks, but not a single 
bark from them. 

" They know the fox is there, or they would be noisy," 
said the colonel, as he watched the copse. 

"Now, Miss Kate, we shall soon have sport. Hark! 
hear that! Isn't it music?" 

And music it was, such as I had never before listened 
to. The whole pack, taking the deep short bark of one 
of them as their cue, suddenl}'- opened in full voice from 
the ravine. A dozen sonorous canine voices were bay- 
ing at once. The noise was singularly exciting. It 
made my pulse bound, and my heart tremble with ex- 
pectation. If you should hear the burst of the full 
tones of a pack of hounds, you would never forget the 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 63 

wild and startling music. My spirited horse canglit the 
excitement, pricked up his slender ears, and stamped 
impatiently with his forefoot, yet obediently suffered 
himself to be restrained by the light pressure of a finger 
upon his rein. The barking of the dogs set the whole 
party on the qui vive ! Every eye was strained to watch 
for the appearance of Reynard, when he should emerge 
from the ravine. Some of the young gentlemen galloped 
"like mad" to the south of it, while others swept round 
to the north of it. I kept at the colonel's side, who 
remained in "our first position," as Monsieur Cheffier, 
the dancing master, says. "Look! There he goes!" 
shouted half a score of eager voices, and the fox appeared 
in full view to all eyes, scampering out of the thicket, 
and taking a direction straight for us ladies ! 

"Your whips — lash him as he passes!" shouted the 
colonel to us. "We must turn him back, and not let 
him get into the wood, or the sport is up. The fox came 
gallantly on, as if either he did not care for us, or did 
not see us. The colonel kept urging "us to whip at 
him," and turn him. We three ladies, therefore, placed 
our horses right across the only way by which he could 
reach the wood, and prepared to do battle bravely, we 
being the only persons on that side of the field; the rest 
of the party having spread themselves over the field, ex- 
pecting the fox to emerge from cover in a different 
direction from that which he took. 

I must confess I felt some trepidation as I saw the 
fox, which was a large one, making as straight as an 
arrow for my horse. My riding whip was not very long, 
but I prepared to use it as valiantly as I could. 



64 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

"He makes for you, Miss Kate! Don't let him pass 
under your horse," shouted the colonel. 

In three leaps the fox was within six feet of my steed, 
and was passing, or rather aiming to pass under him, 
when I hit him smartly with my ivory-handled whip. 
The blow had the effect of checking his leap, so far as to 
give it another direction, and that was over the horse. 
A snarl — a showing of teeth — a dreadful horrid scram- 
ble with sharp claws, right up the flank of my horse, 
and over my saddle — a sweep of his brush in my face — 
and he was off upon the ground on the other side, with 
my green veil entangled about his head and forefeet ! 

" We have him ! You've fought bravely. Miss Kate. 
He's meshed!" shouted several of the gentlemen. "Was 
any thing ever done handsomer ? Never saw a bolder 
leap than that in a fox !" 

The fox was indeed fairly meshed ! the veil blinding 
and fettering him so hard that he did nothing but roll 
over and over, spit and snarl, like twenty cats tied up 
in a sack ! The colonel leaped from his horse and ap- 
proached him with his whip. The other gentlemen did 
the same as fast as they reached the spot. The negroes 
yelled and laughed with obstreperous joy at the pickle 
" Massa Fox was in." But Reynard was not yet cap- 
tured. He now began to tumble and struggle for life so 
fearfully, that he released one foot from my poor, torn 
veil, and, thus relieved in part, he managed, by the most 
extraordinary somersets, to travel at a pace difficult for 
the gentlemen to keep up with, laughing, too, as they all 
were, at his perplexity, which was comical enough. The 
progress of the fox was a one-legged lope, a roll, and a 
somerset, alternately, varied by a yelp at every new 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 65 

change in his extraordinary locomotion. He got a dozen 
blows with the whips, but still marvelouslj kept ahead 
of his pursuers, till at length he tumbled blindly into a 
deep hole, out of which a tree had been taken, when the 
dogs plunged in upon him and strangled him. The 
brush was brought to me as a trophy, the gentlemen de- 
claring that I was his captor. I, however, referred that 
honor to my poor veil, which was torn and soiled most 
pitiful to behold. The colonel has, since that adventure, 
dubbed me as " The lady of the veiled fox." 

Kate. 



66 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 



LETTER IX. 

My dear Sir : — 

I do not recollect whether in my former letter, I 
have mentioned the rural little Gothic chapel which is on 
the estate. It was erected at the private expense of the 
noble-hearted Christian gentleman who is its proprietor. 
The model is borrowed from an exquisite chapel which 

the colonel saw on the estate of the Earl of C , when 

he was in England. The situation of our chapel is ro- 
mantic ; and, being seen from all parts of the plantation, 
is an interesting feature in the scenery. It is about 
fifty-five feet long and built of stone ; with turrets and 
mullioned Gothic windows of stained glass, and a floor 
of Tennessee marble. Its site is upon the verge of a 
green plantation, which overhangs the brook, and is, in 
its turn, overhung by a projecting spur of the lion's 
cliif. Majestic oaks embrace it, and ivy is trained up its 
walls. A broad lawn, crossed by graveled paths, sur- 
rounds it. These paths lead : one to the villa, one to the 
next plantation, and one to the African village where 
the slaves reside ; for, be it knowii to you, that this 
beautiful chapel, the cost of which was $3000, has been 
built for the slaves of the estate. The body of the chapel 
is reserved for them, while in a gallery above the en- 
trance are four pews, two on each side of the organ, in 
which the colonel's family, and sometimes the families 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOxAIE. 67 

of one or two of the neighboring planters, sit during ser- 
vice. Tliis is performed every Sabbath morning by a 
gray-headed gentleman, who acts as lay reader, and on 
week days occupies himself in teaching the classics to 
two sons of a gentleman who lives two miles off. For 
his services on Sunday the colonel gives him a salary. 

The second Sunday after I came here I was invited to 
attend service in the chapel with the family. Upon 
entering it, I found the body of the floor occupied by the 
black men and women of the plantation, seated in chairs 
with the utmost decency and quiet, and all neatly and 
cleanly attired. We took our seats in the gallery, while 
Isabel placed herself at the organ to play a voluntary. 
Until the old gentleman who officiated entered, I had 
time to look at the interior of this bijou of a church. On 
the right of the chancel was an exquisite group of statuary, 
executed in Italy expressly for this chapel by the colonel's 
order, at an expense of §800. It represented the Ma- 
donna and her child. The design was full of taste and ar- 
tistic excellencies. On the opposite side was a table of the 
purest white marble, surmounted by a dove with its w^ngs 
extended. It was a memento of the death of a little son 
of the colonel. There were no pews in the body of the 
church, only low chairs of oak, a chair to each worshiper, 
with an aisle between. 

The service was very solemn ; and my Puritanic ob- 
jections to praying from a prayer-book, have been 
wholly removed by this day's experience. The singing 
was very remarkable. The African women all sing well, 
having naturally soft voices ; with the organ, and full 
fifty fine voices swelling in harmony w^ith it, the effect 
was very fine. "Is it possible," I asked myself, ''that 



GS THE SUNNY south; or, 

tliese are slaves ? Is it possible that this rich voice 
"whicli leads in such manly tones is their master's ? Is it 
possible that the fair girl who unites, by an accompani- 
ment upon the organ, her praise with theirs, is one of 
the ' haughty daughters of the South ?'" 

The responses were all full and timely ; for the slaves 
soon learn words by ear ; and many of them go through 
the whole service, save the psalter, without a mistake. 
The sermon, which was printed, was read well by the 
elderly layman ; it was simple, suitable, and practical. 
After service, the gray-headed old slaves stood respect- 
fully without the door, and, with uncovered heads, bowed 
to the colonel and ladies, the latter of whom stopped to 
speak to some of them, and to make kind inquiries of the 
old ''aunties," as all old female slaves are aifectionately 
termed, as the term "uncle" is applied to the old m.en. 
I have seen a good deal of the African race since I have 
been here, and I am persuaded that they are far more reli- 
giously disposed than the lower and middle class of whites. 
There are but four negroes on the colonel's plantation, 
that are not ''members" of the church, and who do not 
try to square their lives with the precepts of the Gospel 
so far as they understand them. This is the case, I learn, 
on all the neighboring plantations, and I am informed 
by intelligent persons that it is more or less so through- 
out the whole South. It would thus seem, that God, in 
his providence, has permitted slavery to be the instrument 
of christianizing Africa, by bringing Africa to Christian 
shores ; and colonization by re-action on the shores of 
Africa, is completing the mysterious dispensation. 

I have an amusing incident to relate of which our 
chapel was last Sunday the scene. The annual visita- 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 69 

tion of the Bishop being, expected, the venerable lay- 
reader got ready some twenty adults to be confirmed, 
and forty children to be baptized. The Bishop duly 
arrived, accompanied by two clergymen. Our little 
chapel, you may be assured, felt quite honored with the 
presence of such distinguished visitors. There were 
several neighboring families present, who, with ours, 
quite filled the gallery. 

When the time came to baptize them, the marble font 
being filled with fair water, the black babies were brought 
up by their ebony papas. The colonel stood sponsor for 
the boys, and his sister, an excellent and witty maiden 
lady, for the girls. 

" What is his name?" asked a clergyman who was to 
baptize, taking in his arms a little inky ball of ebony 
infancy with a pair of white, shining eyes. 

"Alexander de Great, massa!" 

I saw a smile pass from face to face of the reverend 
gentlemen in the chancel. The babe was duly baptized. 

"What name?" he demanded of another Congo papa. 

" General Jackson, massa !" and by this name the lit- 
tle barbarian was duly made a Christian. 

"What name?" " AValter Scott!" "What name?" 
"Peter Simple!" "What name?" "Napoleon Bona- 
parte!" Splash went the water upon its face, and an- 
other ebony succeeded. His name was "Potiphar." 
Another's was "Pharaoh." Another was christened 
"General Twiggs;" another " Polk and Dallas;" another 
"General Taylor;" indeed, every General in the Ame- 
rican army was honored, while "Jupiter," "Mars," 
"Apollo Belvidere," and "NIcodemus," m\l give you 
a specimen of the rest of the names. The female in- 



70 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

fants received such names as '' Queen Victoria," " Lady 
Morgan," ''Lady Jane Grey," "Madame de Stael," 
"Zenobia," "Venus," "Juno," "Vesta," "Miss Mar- 
tineau, " " Fanny Wright, " " Juliana Johnson, ' ' and 
"Coal Black Rose." The water in the font, greasy 
and blackened by the process of baptizing so many 
black babies, had to be twice removed and replaced by 
fresh. The Bishop could scarcely keep his countenance 
as name after name was given, and the assistant clergy- 
man twice had to leave the church, I verily believe, to 
prevent laughing in the church. The whole of this 
scandalous naming originated in the merry brain of the 
colonel's sister. Of course, the clergyman had to bap- 
tize by the name given, and the whole scene was irre- 
sistible. 

Your friend, 

Kate. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 71 



LETTER X. 

Dear Sir : 

On Saturday last we all rode into the city, which, 
as I have told you, is about two and a half hours' fast 
driving: from Overton Park. The road is a smooth 
turnpike, and runs through a beautiful country of field 
and woodland, hill and dale. The landscape is con- 
stantly varied and constantly interesting. Numerous 
pretty villas lined the road, which being much used, was 
thronged with carriages and horsemen. 

The number of gentlemen we found on horseback 
would be matter of surprise to a Northerner, who usually 
rides only in a gig. A Southerner seldom trusts him- 
self inside of a carriage. If his wife rides out in her 
finely-appointed barouche, he canters well-mounted by 
the carriage window. I believe the Tennessee gentle- 
man looks upon it as decidedly efi"eminate to be seen 
taking his ease in a cushioned carriage. 

On the way w^e passed the site of an old fort, where 
the army of Jackson encamped before marching to New 
Orleans. A few yards from the ramparts, the place 
where a man Avas shot for desertion, was pointed out to 
me. It is a sweet-looking, green spot, and calls up any 
otlier associations than those of bloodshed. 

The Hermitage where Andrew Jackson, jr., now re- 
sides, was not many miles from us. It is a good-looking 



72 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

mansion with a portico, and surrounded by lawns and 
gardens. At the fpot of the garden is visible, through 
foliage, the snow-white tomb of the hero and statesman. 

I was charmed with the beauty of the scenery on 
both sides of our road. The whole landscape undulated 
like a mighty green sea. About two miles from Nash- 
ville a hill commands a fine view of it. We stopped to 
gaze upon it as it rose, crowning a sort of lofty island 
amid a valley, the Cumberland flowing on the east side. 
The view was exceedingly fine and imposing. For every 
roof there was a tree, and what with alternate terraces 
of foliage and porticoes, with the domes and spires rising 
above all, I was so struck with admiration that I wished 
for a painter's pencil to transfer the noble picture to 
canvass. 

The highest portion of the city is distinguished by a 
large mansion cresting it like a coronet. This was the 
residence of the late President Polk, now occupied by 
his estimable widow, who, I am told, has shut herself up, 
a prey to inconsolable grief ever since the death of her 
distinguished husband. From the distance at which we 
were viewing the house, I could see that the large co- 
lumns were craped with black. 

Nashville has been celebrated for its gaiety, its wealth, 
its luxury, its sociability, and the beauty of its females. 
I was not disappointed in the latter. As we approached 
the city, we met at least fifty carriages driving out for 
the usual evening ride, for which these people are so 
famous. In nearly every one of them I beheld one or 
more lovely faces. We met also a large cavalcade of 
school girls mounted on pretty ponies, and every face 
was handsome. So it was after we entered the city, and 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 7S 

went among the shops. All the girls we met were 
pretty; and especially, we noticed an unusual number 
of genteel, lovely widows; for men live faster than wo- 
men, and die early. 

The equipages of the city are numerous, and some of 
them handsome. They drive fast, and usually in open 
carriages. 

Before leaving the city, which carries elegance and 
taste to a high degree, we paid a visit to the Capitol, 
which is one-third completed. It is a majestic new ruin 
in its present aspect, and by moonlight must remind 
travelers from Italy of a Roman temple, half dismantled. 
Mr. Wm. Strickland is the architect. It has been four 
years in building, and will not be completed in five more. 
Its cost will be $2,000,000. The material is a white 
limestone, with delicately "watered" veins. When com- 
pleted it will be the finest edifice in the Union, without 
exception. 

Crowning a clifi" that rises like an island rock from 
the heart of the city, it will have very much the appear- 
ance of the Castle at Edinburgh, and be a distin- 
guished mark for the eye for leagues around. I was 
never more disappointed than I was in the air and style 
of the city. Everything indicates taste, and the uses 
of wealth. There is as much fashion here as in New 
York ; and the ladies dress far more than anywhere else 
I have been. Jewelry is much worn, even in the street, 
and especially at church. Hiding on horseback is very 
fashionable, and the costume a eheval is elegant and re- 
cherche. The dwellings are richly furnished. One 
house I passed, built after the plan of the Borghesd 
Palace at Rome, is furnished throughout with furniture 



74 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

made to order in Paris, and is adorned with European 
pictures and statuary. 

The churches of this city are not handsome or impos- 
ing. And who do you suppose I heard read the service, 

the last Sabbath I was in town ? Mr. H , once an 

author, who has been for two years past studying for 
orders in the church. He is also principal of an Academy 
for young ladies in the city, a position which he holds 
temporarily, until he shall be ordained. I trust he will 
be eminently useful as a clergyman. 

Speaking of authors, what a change has come over 
the literary sky ! Star after star disappears or falls from 
it; Mellen is dead; Bryant writes not; Halleck will 
write no more; Hoffman has changed his poet's pen to 
an accompter's ; Bird is a politician ; Simms has become 
an editor and historian; Poe, poor Mr. Poe, is dead! 
Hastings Weld has taken orders. Willis has almost 
ceased to write, except editorially, and very hastily at 
that ; for, give Mr. Willis time to polish and adorn, prune 
and shape his sentences, and put in the pretty thoughts, 
and his articles are faultless. No one can excel him 
therein. But let him write currente calamo, as the col- 
lege men say, and he is not so interesting. Morris is 
editor, too. I hear his songs sung everywhere in the 
West. He takes the pianos in fair rivalry with Tom 
Moore. If he wants to know what posterity will think 
of him, let him come out West. Willis too, is a favorite 
this way. In a girl's school the other day, I heard two 
of his pieces recited by two lovely girls, in a manner that 
would have made the gentlemanly author feel, had he 
been present, that he was well repaid for the time and 
care of their composition. I heard, at the same time, 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 75 

a dark-eyed Grecian looking maiden recite, with pathos 
and fine taste, Halleck's Marco Bozzaris. The voice of 
the West is the echo of posterity. 

There are no poets among the men West, save Pren- 
tice ; and few females who write. There is much said of 
the playful genius of southern women, and the fertile 
imagination of the men ; but these produce but few au- 
thors. Amelia of Kentucky is almost the only one 
known. There is far more poetical talent in cold New 
England, than in the sunny West. Portland is pecu- 
liarly favorable to this development, I have heard. It 
has produced Mrs. Stephens, Mrs. Elizabeth Oakes 
Smith, the most imaginative of American poetesses; 
Longfellow who will long be remembered by his noble 
"Psalm of Life;" Mellen, the forgotten, and others. 
What country colder than Sweden — what genius greater 
than that of that sweet writer, Frederika Bremer ! 

It seems to me that the American press is putting 
forth nothing new from American authors. Our writers 
seem all to have turned Magazine writers.* 

By the way, French is much studied here, and forms 
a part of every young lady's education. It strikes me 

Mr. , that if you would add a French department to 

your other headings in your paper, it would be very well 
received by the thousand school misses into whose hands 
your paper falls. I would suggest the regular publication 
of well written moral French tales, or letters, with an 
exactly literal translation in the opposite column. It 
would be quite as acceptable to numerous contributors, 
as charades, and aid them in their French, while it will 

* These letters were written from 1852 to 1855. 



76 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OK, 

improve their minds. I think it would be an interest- 
ing, as well as a new feature in your columns. 

This being the last of the test letters I was to write 
you, to see whether you should judge me fit to be a con 
tributor "on remuneration," I shall write no further 
till I learn the decision of your august tribunal. 

Yours, 

Kate. 



4 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 77 



LETTER XI. 

Mr. : 

Your very kind letter of the 1st inst., conveying to 
me the unhoped for, but welcome intelligence, that you 
have decided to enlist me among your corps of contribu- 
tors, was duly received. I know not how, adequately, to 
express to you, the deep gratitude of my heart, for this 
decision ; for I feel that it was given rather through your 
kind generosity, than through any merit which my un- 
fledged pen could lay claim to. I shall, therefore, do 
my best to show you how deeply I appreciate your good- 
ness, and resolve that my "Needles" shall be always 
sharp withal, that you shall never have cause to regret 
your decision in my favor. 

My simple goose quill already begins to feel its dignity, 
held in an authoress's fingers ! It bristles its snowy mane 
and curves its polished neek with the pride of an Arabian 
courser. It realizes its importance. It feels that it is 
possible that one day it may be knocked off at an auc- 
tion of "rare curiosities," for not less than ten golden 
eagles, as authors' stump pens have been before to-day. 
My inkstand, which is a lion couchant, with the ink in 
his ears, seems to raise his majestic head with unwonted 
dignity as he yields it to the thirsty pen. The very 
paper is eloquent in its spotless robes, and seems to say: 
"Remember thou art an authoress, and be careful what 



78 THE SUNNY south; or, 

you trace upon me, for tliy words may be immortal I" 
Oh, the sweet, trembling, timid, happy feeling of author- 
ship ! How the heart bounds at the sight of our first 
thoughts, which we know (yet hardly realize it; have 
been made visible to the eyes of other in type ! We 
think little of seeing our own ideas ivritten; hut j^rinted, 
they create sensations indescribable, half delight, half 
awe, a mingled state of bliss and fear, that none who 
have not been ^' in print," can ever experience. 

I suppose the young merchant, who, for the^rs^ time, 
sees his name heading his showy advertisement in the 
morning paper, or gazes from the opposite side of the 
way upon it painted upon his sign in gold letters, upon a 
blue ground, experiences pleasure, novel and strange. 
But this emotion is not to be compared vfith that of the 
author, who, for the first time, sees the copy of the deep, 
hitherto unspoken, unconfided thoughts of his soul legible 
in type to every eye! His tJiougJtts thus made public, 
are more than a mere painted name, they are a j)a7't of 
himself, a ray of the outgoings of his spirit ! It is like 
beholding himself with an introverted mirror ! Therefore, 
the poet loves his verses, after has subsided his first awe 
and surprise at beholding them in print, (which a little 
time before he had found dwelling in the bottom of his 
soul's deep being,) loves them as a man, with all his faults, 
loves himself! 

Who then will laugh at the dullest rhymer for being 
enamored with his own verses ? We might as well laugh 
at him for loving himself. He thinks his verses as good 
as his talk, and what man was ever persuaded that he 
did not talk well ; or else all bad talkers would be for- 
ever silent ! When we can convince a poor talker that 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 79 

ho is a poor talker, then -will appear the Eighth wonder, 
viz: a poor poet convinced that he is a poor poet. His 
poetry, like his conversation, is himself, and himself 
like China on the "Celestial" map, is the centre of the 
universe. 

Novf from what I have said, good Mr. , you will 

be fairly persuaded that, write I ever so stupidly, it will 
be useless in you or anybody else, to attempt to impress 
upon my mind a healthy sense of stupidity. This is, 
therefore, throwing doAvn the gauntlet to you and the 
critics, (if such a little bird as I be worthy of their aim,) 
not to make the attempt to enlighten my intellectual 
twilight. I have to thank some friendly pen for a letter 
addressed to me in your columns ; although it appears to 
come from a juvenile author, it is, nevertheless, wortliy 
of my attentive recognition, as an evidence that some 
warm heart seeks to express its approving sense of my 
brief literary attempts. I have also seen a pretty poem, 
addressed to me, which, albeit, something bold and 
school-boyish in its audacity, yet it is frank and hearty in 
its tone, and the writer merits my thanks for his kind 
wishes. Speaking of poetry, reminds me how little t7'ue 
poetry there is written now-a-days. Some one has said 
that there are fifteen hundred papers printed in the 
Union ; in most of these, weekly, appear one or more pieces 
of original poetry, say twelve hundred perpetrations 
rhythmical, per week, which multiplied by 52, the num- 
ber of weeks in a year, would give the amazing number 
of 60,000 pieces of original poetry, printed in our news- 
paper columns in a year ! Of these not more than sixty 
annually are worth preserving or republishing, that is, 
one in a thousand! What a despairing computation! 



80 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

I am half afraid that, by flaring to have made it, I shall 
be the innocent cause of driving some hundreds of these 
ambitious poets to running themselves through the heart 
with their steel pens, or taking ink inwardly. 

I have been recently looking over the *' Male and Fe- 
male Poets of America," and I cannot lay my finger on 
a score of poems of which I could unhesitatingly say, 
"- That is imperishable !" Most of the poems of our book 
poets, like the editorials of editors, have fulfilled their 
destiny when once in print. Longfellow has written two 
pieces, his Psalm of Life, and the noble verses in which 
the Union is finely metaphored as a builded ship of oak 
and iron, which will weather all time. Bryant's Thana- 
topsis, (if he will revise and strengthen by condensing it 
here and there,) will never cease to be admired so long 
as men are born to die. • Halleck's Marco Bozzaris, it 
seems to me, holds in suspension the elements of undy- 
ing life. Simms in the South is a noble poet. One or 
more songs of the lyric poet, Morris, and two or three 
of Willis's sacred pieces, are imperishable so long as 
nature and veneration remain the same as they now are 
in the human breast. Besides these, I can find none 
that give promise of surviving the ages to come ! We 
have written a great deal for the nineteenth century, 
but scarcely any thing for the twenty-fifth ! What is 
literary immortality ? Do our poets know what it means^ 
that each expects it? It is the thoughts of one or two 
individual men surviving the oblivion of 800,000,000 
of men, their contemporaries. For of every generation 
of 800,000,000 of men in all ages past, but two or three 
have left their names or works to us ! It is but a twenty 
minutes' task to enumerate all the immortal writers of 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 81 

all nations, from Moses to Chaucer. Thej are hardly 
as many for 3000 years as appear in the monthly pub- 
lished list of letters in a city newspaper ! They are one 
living man to a hundred millions dead! Who, then, 
shall dare to prophesy for his productions, or for his 
name, immortality? Who shall be so vain as to take 
offence when it is questioned if after the 800,000,000 
now on earth have been two thousand years dead, he 
himself, or aught that he has written, though he be 
embalmed in Griswold's "Doomsday Book," shall be 
remembered ! Immortality ! Perpetuity of memory in 
the hearts of the myriads of the mighty future ! For 
whose single brow, now on earth, shall the men of the 
year 6000 wreath the laureled crown? Whose name, 
of those millions of men who walk the city streets to- 
day, shall the youths and maidens to be born twelve 
hundred years hence, have familiarly on their lips, as 
we have the names of Homer, of Virgil, of Shakespeare, 
of Milton, of David ? Immortality ! How few under- 
stand thy meaning when they speak of thee ! You will 

see, dear Mr. , that I have very little hopes of being 

immortalized through my pen ! I confess the chances 
are against me, 800,000,000 to 1. You have, therefore, 
the unique satisfaction of having a contributor who never 
expects to be quoted by the literati of the year 6000, 
A. M. There is an immortality, however, which all may 
gain— which springs from the heart, not from the intel- 
lect—which looks to the approbation of angels, and not 
of men— to a world that shall exist when the last year 
of the last century of this earth shall have closed forever 
upon all human hopes, compared with which immortality, 

that of this world is but an echo. 
6 



82 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

The colonel has just laid on mj tehle Ticknor's Spa- 
nish Literature, and Emerson's ''Nature." I shall, 
therefore, feast for the next three days. If I find any 
thins: that strikes me as valuable in either of these 
books, you shall have the benefit of my reading. 

I have heard rifles or shot-guns cracking all the morn- 
ing in the forest over by the tarn, and therefore judge 
the game to be abundant. To-morrow I am going deer- 
hunting ! I don't mean to be so cruel as to kill (for I 
can shoot, Mr. , and hit too !) the pretty white- 
breasted does, or the majestic stag, with his proud, an- 
tlered head tossing in the air ! Yet, I am all curiosity 
to witness a hunt. 

Good-bye, sir, 

Kate. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 8S 



LETTER XII. 

Mr. : 

My dear sir, did you ever shoot a deer? But I 
dare say you don't have deer to shoot in Independence 
Square ! Do you think it would be cruel to kill one if 
you had them there? One week ago I was innocent of 
the blood of any one of these pretty, brown animals ; 
but, alas ! I am sorry to confess that I have shot a deer 
since I last wrote you, and although it is not dead, I 
feel as badly as if I had wounded a helpless, human be- 
ing. Its reproachful, pleading look, as it turned its 
large, intelligent eybs upon me, I can never forget ! I 
will tell you how it happened. 

The colonel had been invited to ^'Chestnut Ridge," 
seven miles from the Park, by an old military friend, 
who is as keen a sportsman as Nimrod ever was, to hunt 
deer. The invitation was accepted, and Isabel and my- 
self were taken along with the gallant colonel to witness 
the sport ! Sad sport to see the innocent animals that so 
grace the glade of the green forest slaughtered ! Rising 
with the dawn, we took an early breakfast, and mounted 
our horses just as the sun, like a wheel of gold, rolled 
up the east. I was no longer mounted on the spirited 
and pretty little mule, which played me such a runaway 
prank last November, but rode a handsome black pony, 
with a long tail and a magnificent mane, and the smallest 



84 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

ears conceivable. His pace was as gentle as a cradle, 
and he stepped over the grass, as if he trod on velvet 
in a drawing-room. The colonel rode a noble charger, 
of a dark-bay color, with a neck arched and proud, like 
a war-horse ; and such he was, for the colonel had rid- 
den him into many a battle strife on the fields of Mexico. 
The superb animal, as he pawed the earth and pranced 
alono; through the woodlands, seemed still " to smell the 
battle afar off, and the thunder of the captains and the 
shouting." What grace and strength w^ere united in him ! 

Next to man, the horse is unquestionably the noblest 
created thing. But of all majestic forms conceivable to 
human imagination, I have never seen any thing that 
equals that mighty tri-formed figure to be found por- 
trayed in Layard's Nineveh. I mean the sublime form 
composed of a body of a lion, of the wings of an eagle, 
and of the face of a man. No one can gaze upon it with- 
out admiration and awe. It represents strength, fleet- 
ness, and intelligence embodied, and the result is a 
creature that rivals in dignity, majesty, and glory, and 
symmetry, man himself! 

But I am running away from my party. Isabel, the 
beautiful, Spanish-looking Isabel, rode by her father's 
left hand, mounted upon a mottled palfrey that seemed 
formed especially for herself. His small head, his trans- 
parent, pink nostrils, his slender fetlocks as neat as a 
lady's ankle, his dainty footfall, as his deerlike hoofs 
picked out the smoothest w^ay for his mistress, were all 
characteristics of the Arabian race, from -which it claimed 
lineage. What decided aristocracy there is in the horse ! 
They differ as widely from each other as men do, and 
how widely these are separate in excellency of lineage ! 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 85 

There is nobility of birth as there is vulgarity of birth ! 
There are gentlemen who are gentlemen by nature. 
I am not a believer in the axiom that all men are born 
equal, and that education, or the want of it, makes men 
equal. There is gentility and refinement of feature that 
education cannot give, and there is vulgarity of feature 
that education cannot ennoble. When a double-headed, 
double-jointed plough-horse, or any of its kith, can be 
educated to win a Derby cup, then I shall believe that a 
vulgar mind and a vulgar face can, by education, be re- 
fined and ennobled. We had a merry ride of it through 
the grand woods ! How we laughed till echo laughed 
again. One can be as noisy as one pleases in the coun- 
try. There was a white frost on the ground, and the 
crisp grass crashed and crackled as we pressed its crystal 
spears. The birds (for many birds dwell in the forest 
here all the year round) were singing to the morning with 
gladness in their tiny breasts ; the squirrel bounded 
from limb to limb, or raced with nimble feet across the 
sward, and darted up some tall trunk, going higher and 
higher, and carefully keeping on the side opposite to us ; 
for they are a cunning wee thing, with their bushy tails 
arched over their round backs, and their twinkling, pretty 
eyes as watchful as weasels. There was no regular forest 
path, but we threaded the wood at will, for the trees 
grew far asunder, and the total absence of underbrush 
made it like park-land. The surface of the country 
was undulating and picturesque. At one time we would 
descend to a gurgling brook rushing hoarsely away from 
the rocks in its bed, and, fording its translucent waters 
at another time, find ourselves at the top of a ridge that 
opened to us a far spread river view. 



86 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

In our ride of five miles we met but three persons. 
One of these was an old African with a head as white as 
wool^ and a face, venerable and lined with age, and a snowy 
beard. His appearance was striking, and reminded me 
of a black patriarch, especially as he wore a gray blanket 
over his shoulder like a mantle. And let me remark, 
that a blanket completes a negro's winter costume 
here ; sometimes it is made into a coat, but more fre- 
quently, for the advantage of having it as a covering 
at night, worn entire, like a shawl, or a Spanish poncho. 
The African was leading a tall Congo stripling, half-naked 
to the waist, wdio had a hanging countenance, as if he 
were an offender of some sort. 

" That is old Juba with his grandson Tom, tied," said 
the colonel, as they drew near. ''Tom has been playing 
the runaway in the woods these three weeks. So, uncle 
Juba," added the colonel in the kind, familiar tone in 
which masters here, who are gentlemen, address their old 
slaves ; "so you've caught Tom ?" 

" Ees, mosse, me cotch de berry bad boy ! He nebber 
raise heself for noting good uf he get de habit ob runnin* 
'way dis way ! Old Juba feel berry shame ob him. Me 
gib him frashun, me git him home. He disgrace to de 
family ! Come 'long, you nigger, a'n't you shame youself, 
run off in de wood like a dog-tief?" 

With this appeal, the old man gave the thong a jerk, 
and, touching his old hat in respectful homage to his 
master and to ourselves as "young mississes," dragged 
his ragamuffin grandson of eighteen years on the way 
back to the plantation. 

"That old negro," said the colonel, as w^c rode on, 
" has been in my family seventy-eight years. He w^as 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 87 

bought by my grandfather before the Revolution from 
an African trader that came into Jamestown with a load 
of slaves from the coast of Africa. He was then a lad 
of fourteen, and is of course now ninety-two ; yet he is 
never idle, is active and faithful, and is a sort of patri- 
arch over the rest of the slaves, half of whom are his 
descendants. He has not yet forgotten his African lan- 
guage, which he still speaks when he is vexed, nor has 
he dropped his heathenish superstitions. He wears about 
his neck full half a dozen charms of one sort or another, 
and is a firm believer in the devil, whom he says he has 
seen bodily a hundred times. His influence over the 
negroes is very extraordinary. They stand in awe of 
him. His grandson, you see, is a tall, stout fellow, and 
miglit get away from him ; but he would as soon think 
of striking the old man as resisting his authority. 

We had not ridden more than a mile after parting 
with Juba and his captive, when we saw a figure standing 
as motionless as a statue in the forest ahead of us. The 
attitude was free and commanding, and a nearer ap- 
proach showed us that it was an Indian. He was lean- 
ing on his rifle. He wore a sort of coronet, made of 
brass, encircling his crow-black head, and ornamented 
with crow and eagle's feathers. He was dressed in a 
blue frock, trimmed with tarnished gold lace, and belted 
close to his body by a stout leathern cincture. Hanging 
upon his brawny chest were several silver medals. On 
his left wrist were five hoops or bracelets of brass, close 
together, and being riveted on whole, were evidently 
meant to be worn till his death. He wore deer-skin leg- 
gins, the seams fringed, and his feet were encased in 
once handsomely ornamented moccasins, which had seen 



88 THE SUNNY SOUTH: OR, 

service. In his belt were a powder-horn, a long knife 
in a sheath of serpent's skin, a pouch for balls, flints, &c, 
and another large one for miscellaneous articles. His 
rifle was very long, slender, without any groove-stock 
for the barrel to rest in, and had a flint lock. I had 
time to observe all these particulars, for we stopped and 
held some minutes' "talk" with the warrior; for warrior 
he w^as, having fought under General Jackson long years 
agone; and two of the medals suspended from his neck 
were bestowed upon him, the colonel said, by the "hero." 
The Indian was full sixty years of age, but time had 
scarcely whitened a hair of his lofty head. Proud, stern, 
dignified as a king, he neither moved nor regarded us as 
we rode up to him. 

^•Good morning, Captain John," said the colonel; "a 
fine day for the deer ! You seem to be on the chase as 
well as we!" 

The Indian chief smiled at hearing the courteous and 
bland words of the colonel, and answered in a deep bary- 
tone, that completely came up to my idea of a "manly 
voice." 

"Ya, w^hite chief! Good morn'! Deer not much 
plenty ! Good day hunt, but deer not much plenty ! 
White man leave no more deer for Indian rifle!" and he 
slowly shook his head, cast his eyes sadly to the earth, 
and remained silent. 

"Why do you and your people not remove west, 
chief?" asked the colonel. " You will find vast hunting 
grounds there — no white man will intrude upon you— 
you can there be happy and powerful !" 

"Indian never more be groat, white chief!" responded 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 89 

the old warrior, with a heavy cloud darkening the noble 
outline of his Washington like features. 

As he spoke, he turned and strode away with the air 
and bearing of Forrest as Metamora, save that the one 
is imitation, and the other nature. 

"Who is that noble looking chief?" I inquired of 
the colonel, for his sullen pride and solitary condition 
had inspired me with a curiosity to know his history. 

"That is the celebrated Creek chief Nelastora," was 
his reply, as we resumed our ride, while the chief disap- 
peared in the depths of the woodland. "He was an ally 
of Jackson's in the Indian wars, and was of great assist- 
ance to the cause. The encroachments of civilization 
upon his hunting grounds, which were once a hundred 
miles in extent through this region, have compelled most 
of his tribe to remove to the west of the Mississippi. 
But he and a few of his friends refuse to go. He has 
sworn, I am told, upon the graves of his fathers, that he 
will never desert them, but remain to protect and die 
upon them ! And he will keep his word. Sometimes he 
is seen a hundred miles south of this, but he is never 
long absent from the central seat of his tribe, which is a 
beautiful valley thirty miles to the east and south of us. 
I have before met him in the forest, but he refused all 
offers of hospitality, and will cross the threshold of no 
white man. Crockett and this chief were once like 
brothers, yet he never sat at the American hunter's 
board. Three years ago, Nelastora was seen standing 
by General Jackson's grave at the Hermitage, regarding 
it in silence; but when he was approached, he haughtily 
retired." 

By the time the colonel had ended this historv, we 



90 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

were winding up an avenue that led to the mansion 
house of the old soldier, whom we had visited for the 
purpose of hunting deer with him. 

On either hand, the ancient woods were replaced by 
broad cotton fields, which at this season were unplanted. 
A quarter of a mile from the house, a white gate, thrown 
open by half a dozen little shining-eyed negroes, con- 
ducted us to the grounds more immediately contiguous 
with the house, viz : a wide rolling lawn, adorned at in- 
tervals with native fruit trees. We approached the 
verandah of the house at a hard gallop, and were re- 
ceived by our military host with a hearty old-fashioned 
hospitality, that could only be exceeded by the polished 
courtesy of his manners. He kissed both Isabel and 

me! But then, Mr. , he was full fifty-nine, had 

gray whiskers, and — and he always made it a point of 
kissing all pretty young ladies that came to see him. So, 
unless you are fifty-nine, and have gray whiskers, you 
mustn't presume upon this circumstance to think — to 
think — ^you may end the sentence yourself, if you please. 

Good bye, 

Kate. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 91 



LETTER XIII. 



Dear Mr. 



Please present my smiling thanks to your talented 
correspondent " Rusticus," of Wilmington, for his grace- 
ful verses addressed to me. I feel flattered by his com- 
pliments, while I blush that I am not more deserving of 
them. The thought is singularly pleasing to me, that 
the crude efforts of my untutored pen find readers who 
sympathize with and understand me. These kind per- 
sons are all my friends henceforward ! I see them with 
the eyes of my spirit, and embrace them with my heart. 
One day, if not on earth, we shall meet in heaven, and 
recognize each other, and be friends in sweet communion 
forever. 

When I by chance meet here, in this poor world, a 
kindred being, whom to know and love is happiness, I 
think how many such gentle and good ones the world 
contains, whom I shall never see on earth ! When this 
thought comes over my spirit, I feel sad that we must 
pass away unknown to each other ; but the bright world 
seen by faith beyond this reassures me, and I take cour- 
age and rejoice, believing that in the spaces of eternity 
all who are shaped in the same mould of love will find 
each other, and so the beautiful, and good, and lovely 
of earth, though on earth I meet them not, are not for- 
ever lost to me. Is not this a thought to make the lone 



92 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

heart strong? But I must tell you about my deer-hunt. 
Eusticus seems to question the truth of the account of 
the fox-hunt, but if he had spent a few days in this re- 
gion of adventure, he would not hedge in his credulity 
so closely. Pray, why may not a lady have adventures, 
and dashing ones, too, as well as the ''Lords?" Be- 
shrew me, but the esprit du camj) is not all under the 
round hat ! I know a young lady not six miles from the 
Park, who is a celebrated tamer of young steeds, and, 
mounted upon their backs, whips them bravely into sub- 
mission. Di Vernon is a tame maiden compared with 
her. She can shoot a rifle, hit a rose-bud at ten paces 
with a pistol, and take a partridge on the wing. I will, 
perhaps, talk about her at another time. I must now 
make mi/self heroine. Mr. Rusticus Doubtful, I shall 
rap you over the knuckles, sir poet ! 

I have told you, Mr. , how we were met by the 

old soldier when we drew rein at his gallery. The house 
was a long, low, rambling edifice, such as is peculiar to 
the plantations in the South, with a light gallery sup- 
ported by slender columns extending along the front. 
A wide, natural lawn, dotted with huge forest-trees, ex- 
tended around it, smooth as a green plush-carpet. On 
it were four or five beautiful horses cropping the sweet 
grass, two gentle-eyed, tame deer, a heady-looking goat 
with a beard like a Jew, a little innocent lambkin with a 
broken leg which was neatly splintered and bandaged by 
the old soldier's own hands, and a strutting turkey-gob- 
bler with pride enough for the Autocrat of all the Bussias, 
and scarlet enough for a Cardinal's cap. It was a pretty, 
quiet scene, with the golden bars of sunshine laid along 
between the openings among the trees, and the birds 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 93 

singing in the branches, which the morning wind was 
waving and stirring with the motion of life. The ohi 
white-whiskered warrior escorted us into his spacious 
drawing-room, holding Isabel by one hand and me with 
the other, like a gallant gentleman of the old school as 
he was. We were no sooner seated, one on each side 
of him, than a servant entered with a quaternion of 
mint-juleps, in tall silver tumblers, a golden straw of wheat 
projecting from each verdant pyramid a-top. Nothing 
would do but that Isabel and I should take one. The 
old gentleman would not be said Nay. He was one of 
that class of men who fancy that "no" means "yes," 
when spoken by young ladies ; nay, he even Avent so far 
as to asseverate as much. I had to take the julep. 

Just imagine me, Mr# , seated with a riding-whip in 

one hand, and a mint-julep, piled up like " Ossa upon 
Pelion," in the other, communicating with my lips by 
the hollow tube of straw aforesaid, and imbibing like a 
smoker his tobacco, the perfumed nectar of the distilled 
and delicate compound. I must confess it w^as delicious ! 
Don't tell the good temperance folks that I say so for 
the world ! but it was truly refreshing. I didn't wish 
to sip enough to get into my head; so, after five or six 
charming sips, I placed the silver goblet, still full, upon 
the salver. Do you not admire my self-denial under the 
circumstances ? 

I spent an hour admiring the pictures and curiosities 
in the old soldier's handsomely-arranged rooms. Over 
the mantel was a large, full length of the Hero of New 
Orleans, at middle age, in the uniform of a colonel. It 
was an admirable head, and struck me as the personifi- 
cation of energy of will, a quality for which the " Gene- 



94 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

ral" was afterward distinguished al)ovc all other Ame- 
ricans. 

" You admire the Hero ?" said the host, as he observed 
us closely studying the expression of the face of the 
Iron Man of the New World. 

^' Greatly," I answered. 

"He was a great man, Miss Kate!" responded the 
soldier and companion in arms, with a liquid sparkle 
visible in his eyes. I love to see tears in brave men's 
eyes ! 

"You knew him well, major?" I said, interrogatively. 

" We were as brothers, or rather as father and son, for 
though I am gray, he was twenty years my senior. He 
was a lion in battle, and an eagle in pursuit. He was 
born to command. He read men as I read a child's 
book. They have said he was cruel. It is not true ! 
He loved to exercise mercy. Let me tell you an anec- 
dote to illustrate his character. A soldier had deserted 
his post to go home to a dying father. He was arrested 
kneeling at his father's bedside receiving his dying 
blessing. He begged to be permitted to remain to 
close his eyes, 'when,' he said, 'he would be ready.' He 
was taken to the camp, then in Florida. He was 
tried by a court-martial, and condemned to be shot. 
The General signed his sentence of death on a drum- 
head. I saw him do it, and I saw a tear drop, like a 
drop of falling rain upon the hollow drum-head. But 
those who saw not the tear, but marked only the stern 
lines of his face, thought him unfeeling !" Here the major 
frowned, and looked fierce to hide and keep back the 
liquid drops that had been growing larger every moment, 
too large for his eyes to hold; but spite of his bent 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 95 

brows, they found tliclr channels and rolled, pearls of 
price, adown his battle-browned cheeks. What are 
tears? Can any tell what and Avhy are tears? 

''The poor man was at length led forth to execution," 
resumed the major, who had caught one of his teaft-s slyly 
on the back of his hand, while the other broke, as he 
thought unobserved, upon the marble hearthstone; "the 
detachment which was detailed to execute the sentence, 
was drawn up about fifty paces from the general's tent. 
The whole army were drawn up in line to witness the 
death of the deserter. The general remained in his tent. 
He was pacing up and down calmly and thoughtfully. 
There wanted but a minute to the signal for death, when 
suddenly he ordered the deserter to be brought before 
him. The man was led blindfolded as he was to his 
tent. 'Larnham,' said the general to the deadly pale 
man, 'you have forfeited your life by the laws of war. 
I therefore signed the warrant for your execution. You 
have merited life by your filial obedience; I therefore 
repeal the sentence of the court martial and pardon you ; 
and may every son be as worthy of the name as you have 
proved yourself to be!' The poor man fell at the 
general's feet and embraced his knees, and the army 
without hurrahed as one man ; for the fihal piety of the 
deserter had found a responsive chord in every heart, and 
the pardoning act awakened its echo." 

There was a stand of colors in the corner of the room 
which the mqjor had carried at the head of his battalion ; 
and there were many ornaments around, consisting of 
war-hatchets, bows, quivers, wampums, crests of eagle's 
feathers, painted deer skins, fringed and embroidered, all 
presents from Indian chiefs. The major showed me a 



96 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

war club \\inch was fringed with huraan liair, and which 
he said had killed many a warrior in its day. But the 
sight of it was revolting to my imagination. But he had 
paintings of favorite horses and hounds, of game and 
huntin*^ scenes, and the candelabra of his • rooms were 
deer's antlers, with silver tops terminating the extremities 
to hold the candles. One horned branch held tliirteen 
sockets, which he called his Federal Chandelier. He 
took us to one room which was literally hung around 
with rifles, old, long, and short, and of all sizes ; pistols, 
fowling pieces, deer's antlers, powder flasks and horns, 
game bags, dried game, game in glass cases, and all sorts 
of things which I could not imagine the use of, but 
which he gravely declared were all essential to the 
making up of a good hunter. 

He would take us to his stables too, to see his blind 
war-horse. We found the venerable steed occupying a 
neat brick cottage opening into a green paddock in 
which he was grazing. As soon as he heard his master's 
voice he pricked up his aged ears and came trotting along 
till he was within two yards, when he stopped and felt 
his way to the gate with his feet. We patted him and 
spoke kindly to him, and he licked salt out of my hand. 
His teeth were all gone, and his eyes were as white as 
those of a fish. How pitiable was the noble wreck ! 
He had been through the Alabama and Florida wars, 
and bore a scar on his left shoulder from the blow of a 
tomahawk. His master talked with him as if he were a 
human being, and as afi'ectionately as if he were a com- 
rade. It was a fine picture ; the white-headed soldier 
leaning upon and talking kindly with the aged war-horse 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 97 

who had seen better days, but had now grown old to- 
gether with his master. 

When we returned to the house we found all ready for 
the hunt. Our horses were saddled and at the door, 
each held by an African. We were soon a-saddle, fol- 
lowed by four servants a-foot, two of whom led a leash 
of dogs a-piece. How the hounds' intelligent eyes spoke 
of anticipated sport ! Our party consisted of our colo- 
nel, the old soldier, Isabel, and myself, of the Saxon 
race ; of the four negroes, and a fifth, half breed, who 
w^as a sort of forest-keeper to our host. He was a man 
skilled, the major told us, in every kind of wood-craft, 
and not to be matched for a deer in all Tennessee. He 
was mounted on a nag that looked like a half breed, 
having a head like a bull dog, a mane like a buffalo, and 
a thick mane on each fetlock. He was shaggy as an 
Angola rug, black, and ugly in temper. Our elegant, 
aristocratic jennets shied away from him if he chanced 
to trot near either of them, with a proud flash of their 
eyes and a haughty whinny of their nostrils. 

We at length reached a noble wood extending to a 
ridge, from which there was a precipitous path leading 
to a romantic stream that emptied into the Harpeth which 
conveys its waters to the broader Cumberland. In this 
forest the deer usually feed, and, crossing the ridge, de- 
scend the winding path to the water side to drink. 

After getting through the wood, we took up our posi- 
tion upon the ridge, between the forest and the water. 
There were four deer paths leading across it, near each 
of which stood an oak of enormous breadth of branches, 
with trunks like colossal columns of Thebes. We dis- 
mounted on tlte ridge, and giving our horses to the 



98 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

Africans, wlio led them away to a distant eminence, we 
each of us took a position behind a tree. I wouhl 
have preferred standing by the colonel's side at his tree, 
but he and the major insisted that Isabel and I should 
each have our tree, "so that," said they, "the four 
paths leading from the forest to the river might be com- 
manded." So for the sake of a military disposition of 
their forces by the two old soldiers, I had to take post 
behind one of the huge oaks. Next to me was the major, 
fifty feet off to the south; and on the north of me was 
Isabel, with the colonel on the north flank. For form's 
sake we were both armed. (Isabel and I with small bird 
guns, London make, and exquisitely ornamented with 
silver inlaying.) These guns were owrs, — New Year's 
presents from the colonel, w^ho regularly gave us lessons 
in the science of shooting, averring that every American 
lady ought to kno»^ how to take sight and pull a trigger. 
Now, when I took the post assigned me, I had no more 
malice aforethought against any deer of the forest, 

Mr. , than I have against that "dear gazelle" the 

song sings about. I was as innocent of any intention 
of firing, as a timid young gent who has been dragged 
into a duello by his "friends" would be likely to have. 

The tall half-breed had left us some time before we 
reached the ridge, and turned off into the depths of the 
forest with the dogs, about a dozen of them in all. We 
had hardly well taken our "stands" when, from the 
bosom of the old wood, came to our ears the low basso 
baying of the hounds, sounding full a mile off. 

"There, they wake them up, girls!" cried the major, 
with eyes sparkling with something of their old battle 
fire. "Stand firm and keep your trees when they come. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 99 

Take cool aim and pull trigger when you see tlie color 
of their ejes. Thej will be up in about five minutes!" 
The baying of the hounds noAY grew nearer and louder, 
mingled at intervals ^vith the shrill, human cry of the 
deer driver. From the. colonel I understood that the 
dogs had doubled round the deer as they were feeding, 
and were driving them towards the ridge, which they 
would soon fly across, to dash for the river. Nearer 
and louder, and wilder was the uproar in the forest ! The 
open mouths of a dozen dogs, cheered on by the half- 
breed, filled the woods with a continuous roar. Soon 
were heard close at hand the crashing of branches and 
rustling of leaves, as the antlers of the deer brushed 
them in their mad escapade. Then came the quick pat- 
ter of hoofs, and the rush of the air like the "noise of 
many waters." 

''Look! see! they are in sight!" cried Isabel, her 
dark eyes sparkling like a spirited young knight's, when 
he first sees his foe advancing against him, lance in 
rest! 

And they were in sight ! First, a noble stag, leading 
the van of the flight; then half a dozen graceful does; 
then two or three smaller stags; then a confused crowd of 
a score of all sizes. With heads laid flat back on their 
shoulders, they came up the ridge side with incredible 
swiftness. As they approached our stands, they divided 
into four beaten paths, and came on like a rolling sea, 
bearing a fleet of antlers. Behind them, following hard 
on their flanks, coursed the dogs, with their heads in 
the air, and their deep bay deafening the ear. 

It was a moment of intense excitement. It was like 
a battle commencing, with the foe chargin^r! I aid not 



100 THE SUNNY south; or, 

feci fear, but excitement! My pulse bounded! My heart 
leaped with heroic springs ! My spirit caught the wild 
inspiration of the scene ! 

^' Stand firm!" eagerly whispered the colonel to us, as 
they got so near that we could see their brown, womanly 
looking eyes. 

"Draw your sight coolly, girls," cried the major. 

The next moment they were upon us ! The leading 
stag dashed like a race horse past the oak where Isabel 
stood, four or five following him at top speed. But I 
had no time to observe others. My eyes were bent with 
a stern energy (my brov\^ is ha^'dly yet restored to its 
natural smoothness) upon a phalanx that was rushing to- 
wards me like the wind. An instant, and they passed, 
leaving a hurricane in the air of their track following 
them. I shut my eyes involuntarily. (Crack ! crack ! 
went rifles on each side of me!) As I opened them 
again, I saw the last of the party making for my tree 
like a launched javelin. (At this instant Isabel's gun 
was heard.) It was a beautiful doe, and as I had, in the 
bewildering moment of the exciting scene, stepped a little 
out, and exposed myself unconsciously to her attack, 
she came leveling her frontal battery unerringly to butt 
me over. I saw my danger, and was paralyzed at it ! 

"Fire, or you are killed," shouted the colonel, in a 
tone of horror. 

"Fall down, and let her bound over you!" hallooed 
the major. 

Instinctively I levelled my pretty bird gun and fired. 
I saw the beautiful animal leap into the air, the red 
blood pouring down its snow-white breast, and plunge 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 101 

forward headlong at my feet. I sunk, almost insensible, 
upon the warm body, scarcely hearing the cries. 

"Bravo!" 

"Capital shot!" 

A shriek from Isabel, who believed me wounded bv the 
doe's hoofs, and who flung herself by my side, recalled 
me from the momentary stupor which the mingled emo- 
tions of my danger and my escape, and my horror at the 
sight of the bleeding breast of the deer, had produced. 

Judge my happiness, Mr. , when it was found 

that the doe was not mortally wounded. The major, at 
my entreaty, said it should be taken to his house and 
nursed for me till it recovered. This was done, and I 
have the pleasure of assuring you that it is rapidly con- 
valescing, and it seems to be grateful to me for riding 
over every day to see how it fares. 

The result of the day's "sport" was two stags, three 
does, and one rabbit, which Isabel caught alive on our 
way home, after running it down on horseback. She 
also wounded a deer, which escaped from her. 

Now, then, you have a veritable account of my deer 
hunt. When you make your promised tour of the Union, 
"a la President," and come to this garden of the West, 
Tennessee, we will get up a hunt especially for your 
edification, fox, deer, or rabbit, as may chime in with 
your fancy. 

^ Yours, respectfully, 

Kate. 



102 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 



LETTER XIV. 

My wounded deer lias quite recovered. You cannot 
imagine my joy at this result. If it had died, I should 
have carried the poor, affectionate, mild-eyed creature's 
death upon my conscience to my last hour. It already 
knows my voice, and suffered me to lead it by my saddle- 
horn yesterday, from the major's to the Park ; though, 
to confess the truth, it came twice near bounding away 
from me when it discovered a herd of deer, which, scared 
at our approach, went scampering down the glades. But 
a gentle word and a pat upon the neck re-assured and 
quieted it. The worst part of bringing it over was to 
keep two hounds, that always ride out with Isabel, from 
tearing it in pieces. They could not comprehend the 
mystery why man should one day hunt deer down and 
slay them, and the next, pet and protect one. Erutes 
are not very able logicians, and are beyond the compre- 
hension of mixed motives. No doubt a great deal of the 
conduct of their intelligent masters puzzles them vastly. 
Brutes follow instinct that never deviates from a straight 
line, while intelligence is unconfined. Buck and Wolf 
could not be reasoned with, so I used my whip smartly ; 
and, thus seconded, at length got my protegee safely 
housed at home. What splendid orbs the mild creature 
has for eyes ! Their expression is soft and pleading, with 
a slight glitter of timidity. I have seen a beautiful 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 103 

woman who had just such eyes as my deer has. To 
keep my treasure from the dogs, I have shut it up in the 
paddock for poultry, which has a high fence around it , 
I have had to whip the hounds half a score of times to 
teach them not to stick their black noses through the 
palings and yelp at it, half terrifying it to death. 

By the way, talking of hounds, I was awakened this 
morning at sunrise by a great uproar in the kennel, where 
at least twenty hounds are kept. Every dog was in full 
howl, and such a noise! It was not the clear, heart- 
stirring bay they utter when they are in chase, but a 
melancholy, cross, snappish wailing and howling, as if 
some hitherto unheard of tribulation had befallen them 
generally and individually. The whole house was roused. 
The colonel first reached the scene of the canine tur- 
moil, and, upon inquiring, ascertained from a black wo- 
man, that they were ''mad because she baked their corn- 
bread for dem." 

It appeared that old, purblind mam' Daphny, who 
does nothing but cook for the hounds, was sick in bed 
"with the rheumatics," and delegated her duties to 
another for the day. The hounds, whose alimentary 
tastes, as well as olfactory nerves, are keenly sensitive, 
had detected the new and less skillful hand " at the bel- 
lows," and so bellowed forth, in the fashion I have 
described, their grief and rage at this innovation upon 
established usages. They left the corn-bread untouched, 
and would not eat until old aunt Daphny — good-hearted 
Congoese — crawled out of bed, and made up a "batch" 
which was no sooner placed before the epicurean quad- 
rupeds, than they devoured it greedily. It takes as much 



104 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

good bread to keep these hounds as it does a dozen ne- 
groes. They, the dogs, are dainty wretches. 

I was witness, yesterday afternoon, to a scene that 
afforded me infinite amusement. The negroes had pre- 
sents all round at Christmas and Newyear's ; but, on 
Washington's birth-day, old George, a favorite and vene- 
rable slave, whose father once belonged to Washington, 
argued that he ought to have a special present ! The 
colonel therefore sent into Nashville and bought him a 
new violin. A more acceptable gift could hardly have 
been made to him, as he has a fine ear for music, and is 
the Orpheus and "Ole Bull" of the plantation. It has 
been his custom of evenings, after the day's work is over, 
to seat himself upon a bench beneath a large elm that 
grows in the centre of the African village or Quartier. 
Here, at the sound of his fiddle, would gather the whole 
ebon population to dance. At such times he gives re~ 
gular lessons to the young negroes in dancing to the 
banjo, and teaches their juvenile voices the classic airs 
of Mondango and Gruinea ; hereditary tunes, that have 
been brought from Africa, and which are now spread over 
the land to such words as "Juliana Johnson, don't you 
cry," " Old Dan Tucker," ''Long Time Ago," &c. 

We had just risen from the tea-table, last evening, 
when old George made his appearance at the steps of 
the gallery, and, baring his bald head, he bowed with a 
politeness that Lord Chesterfield would have envied, and 
made us this speech : 

" Young Missises and Massa colonel ; old George 
take de liberty to 'vite you to come to de dance out 
door by de ol' elm. Massa hab giv' me new fiddle, 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 105 

and I takes pleasure to giv' de white folks a consart, and 
show de young ladieses how my scholars dance." 

We accepted George's polite invitation, and as the 
moon was full we went over to the village. We were 
guided to the tree by the bright light shed from half a 
dozen pine torches, held in the hands of as many Afri- 
can animated statues, whom George had conspicuously 
stationed to throw light upon the scene. 

As I approached the spot, I was struck with its no- 
velty, for I have not yet been long enough here to be- 
come familiar with all plantation customs. I have told 
you that the negro village of the estate is picturesquely 
disposed on the borders of a pretty iiiere, a few hundred 
yards from the house. We crossed the water, by a 
wicker bridge, and had most of the dwellino;s of the 
slaves in full view, occupying two streets and three sides 
of a square. The lights of pine-wood flung a red and 
wild glare upon their fronts, and upon the lake, and 
upon a group of more than a hundred Africans of both 
sexes, who were assembled about the tree. It revealed, 
also, here and there an old man or woman, helpless 
through age, seated in their hut-doors, in order to enjoy 
as much of what was going on as they could. 

We already found the dignified George seated upon 
his bench, fiddle in hand. On his right stood a short, 
fat negro, holding a banjo, and on his left was another 
slave, with eyes like the bottoms of China cups, holding 
two hollow sticks in his hand. Behind George w-as a 
toothless negress, having before her a section of a hol- 
low tree, shaped like a drum, with a dried deer-skin 
drawn tightly over it ; in her shining fist she grasped a 
sort of mallet. Chairs, assiduously provided, were placed 



106 THE SUNNY south; or, 

for us, and the buzzing of pleasure, occasioned among 
tlie numerous company of Ham's posterity, having sub- 
sided, at a majestic wave of George's fiddle-bow, the 
concert began ! The first tune was a solo, and new to 
me, and so beautiful and simple that I made old George 
play it for me to-day in the house, and I copied the 
music as he did so. He says his father taught it to him. 
Certainly the negroes have striking native airs, charac- 
terized by delightful surprises and touching simplicity. 
Their chief peculiarity is cheerfulness. 

George having first played a soft strain, the banjo 
struck in a second ; then came the hollow sticks, like cas- 
tanets, but five times as large, hollow, and more musical ; 
and, lastly, the old negress thumped in a base on her 
hollow drum. The perfect time, the SAveet harmony, the 
novelty of the strange sounds, the singular combination 
enchanted me. I must confess that I never heard true 
music before ; but then I should acknowledge I have not 
heard any operatic music in an opera-house. But do 
not smile if I say that I believe George and his three 
aiders and abettors would be listened to with pleasur- 
able surprise, if they should play as I heard them play, 
by a Walnut street audience. Ileal African concert- 
singers are not, however, in fashion. White men blacked 
are only comme ilfaut. Is it not odd that a city audi- 
ence will listen to imitation negroes, and yet despise a 
concerto composed of the Simon pures? After George 
had played several pieces, one of which was "Lucy 
Long," as I had never heard it before, and had received 
our praises, he said, always speaking with the dignity 
of an oracle : 

"Now, if massa and de young ladieses please, we 



THE SOUTHEENER AT HOME. 107 

hab dc small-fry show dcmsclvc ! Come, tand out here, 
you litty niggers ! Show de white folk how you dance 
de corn dance !" 

Thereupon a score of little darkies, from five years 
of age to a dozen years, girls and boys together, sprang 
from the crowd, and placed themselves in the space in 
front of us. Half of them were demi-clad, those that 
had shirts not being troubled with any superfluous ap- 
parel, and those that had trousers being shirtless ; in a 
word, not a black skin was covered with but one species 
of garment, and this was generally a very short and very 
dirty, coarse camisa. 

" Now make de dirt fly !" shouted George, as he struck 
up a brisk air alone — banjo, hollow sticks, and drum be- 
insT silent. 

The younglings obeyed the command to the letter. 
They danced like mad ! The short-skirt flaps flew up 
and down, the black legs were as thickly mixed up as 
those of a centipede waltzing ; woolly heads, white eyes, 
glittering teeth, yells and w^hoops, yah-yahs, and wou- 
wous, all united, created a scene that my shocked pen 
refuses to describe. The little negroes did full credit to 
old George's skill, and he evidently felt it. He sawed 
away desperately till the sweat rained from his furrowed 
brow. He writhed, and rose, and bent over, and stood 
up, and did every thing but lie down, playing all the 
while without cessation, and in a sort of rapturous ecs- 
tasy. Banjo caught the inspiration, and hollow sticks 
started after, while drum pounded aAvay like young thun- 
der, yelling a chant all the while, that, had her grand^ 
mother sung it to Mungo Park, would have driven him 
from the shelter of her hut to the less horrible howls 



108 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OK, 

of the desert. The little Africans danced harder and 
harder. Their parents caught the spirit of the moment, 
and this one, dashing his old cap down, sprang into the 
arena, and that one, uttering a whoop, followed, till full 
fifty were engaged at once. I never enjoyed any thing 
so much ! I could fancy myself w^itnessing some hea- 
then incantation dance in the groves of Africa ! The 
moonlight shining through the trees, the red glare of the 
torches upon them, their wild movements, their strange 
and not unmusical cries, as they kept time with their 
voices to their quick tramping feet, their dark forms, 
their contortions, and perfect abandon^ constituted a 
tout ensemble that must be witnessed to be appreciated. 

Suddenly, in the height of their diversion, the planta- 
tion bell began to strike eight o'clock. When the first 
stroke was heard from the turret of the overseer's house, 
there was a burst of mingled surprise and regret. They 
shouted to each other to "do their best;" and between 
the first and eighth stroke, take my word for it, 

Mr. , more dancing was done, and harder, and 

faster, and noisier, than was over done before in so small 
a limitation of time. It seemed they were all determined 
to heap as much pleasure into this fleeting space as it 
could contain. With the last stroke, every man, woman, 
and youngling, uttered a yell, gave a final leap into the 
air, and with the dying vibration of the bell's sound, all 
was quiet. George even was arrested with his bow in 
the air, in an attitude of expiring delight, as if 

"Dying of a tune in Orpheanic pain," 

"Good night, boys," said the colonel, in the cordial 
frank way he has when he speaks to his people; "you 



THE SOUTIIERXER AT HOME. 109 

liave enjoyed yourselves, and so have we. George, your 
pupils, young and old, do you credit." 

" Tankee, Massa Colonel ; I know'd you'd be berry much 
gratify. I hope de young ladieses is ekally charmed." 

"We are charmed, George," I answered; at which ho 
made me a superb bow, when we took our departure. 
The slaves also retired each to his own cabin, the torches 
were extinguished, and before we reached the house, 
stillness reigned in the green moonlit square of the Afri- 
can quarter. 

''Now let us have some of your music, Bel," said her 
father, as we entered the dining-room, which was richly 
lighted with a solar sphere of ground glass. As my 
eyes fell upon the superb furniture, the gorgeous carpet, 
the luxurious drapery of the windows, and the golden 
harp and rosewood joiano, and the peerless beauty of the 
young girl seated at the costly instrument, I could not 
help contrasting the refined character of the whole en- 
semble with that we had just borne a part in. It ap- 
peared like a transition from one world to another! 
Isabel's voice is surpassingly rich in . compass and sweet- 
ness. She sings much like Biscaccianti, and warbles in 
her throat in the same dulcet, dove-like manner. She 
can soar too, to the same lark-like notes, taking the soul 
far up on the wing of her song, to the very skies, till it 
melts into heaven. Don't think me extravagant, but 
music ever needs adequate language to describe its effects. 
Types, transpose them into any shape of words, fail to 
express the impression music makes upon the soul. 

While I was looking at the African dance, and listened 
to their voices, which went to the tune of the dance in a 
continuous chant, I was led to the reflection that the 



110 THE suNJs'Y south; or, 

dance, even in our assemblies, is a barbaric relic, and 
til at civilization in retaining, has only rejected tlie vocal 
feature which characterizes it among all barbarous peo- 
ple. We dance mutely ; Indians and Africans singingly. 
Who shall judge between us ? 

Since I wrote the above, I have seen the gentleman 
who rode the bull six miles on a steeple chase, half 
across the country ! He called to see the colonel on some 
business, and was presented to us. He is a young man, 
resolute, and rather dissipated looking; and I discerned 
the butt of a small pistol sticking out of his pocket, which 
did not prepossess me favorably, for it strikes me that 
a brave man will not go armed day-by-day. Carrying 
weapons is a sign either of a quarrelsome temper, or a 
cowardly heart ! After our visitor left, the colonel told us 
that three years ago he laid a wager that he would ride a 
famous fierce bull twice around a pasture. The bet was 
taken, and the young man managed to get astride the 
bull with only a stout whip in his hand. The bull, as 
might be exj)ected, at being thus taken "a-back," 
plunged, roared, pawed, and set off at full speed. At 
the first dash he broke through the fence, and laid his 
mad course straight across the country. The young 
man, putting his whip in his teeth, and grasping a horn 
in each hand, held on for his life. Unable to guide the 
enraged brute, unable to check him, and fearing to throw 
himself off, he committed himself to the creature's will, 
which led him two leagues to the Cumberland, into which, 
sans 2^eur, the bull plunged headlong, and so gave his 
involuntary rider liberty. It is needless to say he won 
"the stakes." 

Can you tell me, Mr. , if General Morris has 



THE suN>s^Y south: OR, 111 

lately puLlislicd any new pieces? Next to Tom Moore's, 
liis songs arc admired in the West. If the gallant gene- 
rtil should come out here, he would have a pretty fair 
notion of what^^osi mortem fame is; for the appreciation 
which an author receives in a strange land, as I have 
said, is equal to the voice of posterity. 

Respectfully, 

Kate. 



112 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 



LETTER XV. 



My dear Mr. 



I CAN convey to you no adequate idea of the pic- 
turesque character of the scenery of this estate. It is 
made up of groves, uplands, cliffs, grotto-like springs, 
level, green meadows, and undulating fields. In what- 
soever direction we ride or walk, there are interesting- 
features to please the eye. Our drives from the villa 
are all charming. Eleven miles in one direction, east- 
ward, we come to the venerated tomb of Jackson, at the 
Hermitage; in another we find ourselves, after three 
hours' ride, in the beautiful and wealthy city of Nashville. 
A longer ride, south, brings us to the handsome village 
of Columbia, where President Polk was born and lived, /^"df, 
and where is one of the most eminent collegiate institu- 
tions for females in the United States; and beyond, an 
hour's ride farther, lies Ashwood, the princely domain 
of the four brothers Polk, whose estates extend for miles, 
ju continuous and English like cultivation. Of this lovely 
I'cgion I shall vrritc you by and hj. A shaded road, 
leading four miles north of us, terminates on the pebbly 
shore of the romantic Cumberland, where, as we sit upon 
oar horses, we can watch the steamers pass, and the keel 
boats and huge barges floating down with the ciirrent. 
Here, too, vre sometimes catch fish, and have a rare pic- 
nic time of it. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 113 

Be sure of it, Mr. , you never will Lave enjoyed 

life till you come to our Park. If I dared tell the colonel 
what I was doing, he would heartily invite you through 
me ; but I would not let him know for the world that I 
am "takin' notes an' printin' 'em," so pray don't send 
your paper to him. He doesn't read much, save politics, 
or I should tremble lest, when he rides to the city, he 
should fall in with my "Needles." But, then, I have 
not said any thing in them very naughty, have I, Mr. 

? I am sure all is love and kindness that I write ; 

at least, I see them in my inkstand when I dip my pen 
therein. ^. 

My deer follows me like a greyhound. It has a heart 
that holds gratitude as a full cup holds rich wine. When 
I look into its intelligent eyes I seem to be looking down 
into a pair of deep, shadowy wells, at the bottom of which 
I see visible the star of its spirit. It seems to have 
almost a human soul ! It loves, and is grateful, and is 
dependent like a woman ! Nothing pleases it so much 
as to have me talk to it. It listens, moves its graceful 
ears, and smiles out of its eyes, its calm joy! "What," 
asks Emerson, "what is a brute?" Who can answer? 
What a mystery they are ! 

By the way, I nearly lost my life defending my pet 
yesterday. I had walked down to a spring that gushes 
out of a cavernous rock in a lovely green glen, a short 
distance from the house. My deer followed me. As I 
sat by the spring and read "Willis's People I have Seen," 
— a very readable book, by-the-bye, my deer ambled off 
to a little emerald knob, and began to browse. It was 
a quiet scene, and the idea of danger never entered either 

of our foolish heads. All at once I heard a wolf-like 

8 



114 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

bay from a deep throat; then a swift riisliing of a blood- 
hound so closely past me, that I felt the warm breath 
of the animal upon my face. The next moment he was 
within a bound of my deer ! With a cry of warning, 
I thoughtlessly hastened to the rescue of the deer, which 
no sooner saw its danger than it sprang into the air, 
completely over the dog, as he crouched coucliant to 
pounce upon him, and flew to me. The bloodhound 
doubled and came back after him. The deer stopped 
and stood trembling at my side. I threw myself for- 
ward, and endeavored to intimidate the red eyed monster 
by shaking Willis at him ! But, I know not from what 
influence, he turned aside from me and leaped upon the 
animal's shoulder. The helpless deer sunk upon its 
knees, uttering a piteous cry. At this my courage was 
roused, and grasping like a stiletto the steel inlaid paper- 
cutter I had been using, I was in the act of driving it 
into the fiery eye of the savage brute, when a loud voice 
caused the dog to release his hold, and me to suspend the 
blow. With a growl like a bear robbed of his prey, the 
bloodhound slunk away, evidently fearing to encounter 
the owner of the voice, who proved to be the overseer. 

''You had an escape, miss," said the man, politely 
raising his broad black hat. "I did not know any one 
was in this field, or I should have kept him close by me. 
It was the deer he was after. I hope you were not 
hurt?" 

"Only frightened for my poor deer," I answered. 
"Her shoulder bleeds, sir." 

"It is only a tooth mark through the skin. Let me 
see that dirk, if you please. If you had stuck him with 



THE SOUTHERNETl AT HOME. 115 

that in tlic eye you would have killed him outright. It 
is a little, but sure weapon." 

"It is a paper-cutter, sir," I said, mortified to think 
he should suppose I carried a dirk. 

"It is as good a cutter as a knife. I am glad you did ' 
not strike the dog. He is worth a round hundred and 
fifty dollars, and he is the only one we have. They will 
track a footstep for miles," he added; " and the negroes 
fear them so, that one on a plantation is enough to keep 
them from running away. I keep this ugly fellow more 
as a preventive than really to hunt them. Come, Tiger," 
he said, calling the dog ; and in a few moments I was 
left alone with my wounded deer. It was not, fortun- 
ately, badly hurt, and in an hour was as lively as ever. 

On my way home, I called at a neat hut, built under 
a shady catalpa tree. A clean, broad stone was the door- 
step ; white half-curtains were visible at the small windows, 
and an air of neatness pervaded the whole. Before it 
wa,s a small yard, in which grew two "Pride of China" 
trees, for shade, and a cabbage and gourd plat were on 
either side of the doorway. In the door sat old Aunt 
Phillisy, a negress withered to parchment by extreme 
age. 

She says she is over a hundred years old, of which I 
have no doubt. She is African born, and still retains 
many words of her native dialect, with a strange gibber- 
ish of broken English. She was smoking a pipe, made 
of corn-cob, and rocking her body to and fro in the sun- 
shine, in pure animal enjoyment. Her husband, okl 
Daddy Cusha, who was nearly as old as his wife, was 
seated on a low stool in the room, but where the sun 
fell upon him. He was the most venerable object I ever 



116 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

beheld, in liis way. He was stone blind, bis bead bald, 
and sliining like burnished copper, and his beard white 
as fleeces of wool. His hands were folded upon his 
knees, and he seemed to be in silent communion with the 
depths of his own spirit. These two persons had not 
labored for years, and their master was providing for 
them in their old age. On every plantation you will find 
one or more old couples thus passing their declining 
years, in calm repose, after the toils of life, awaiting 
their transfer to another state of being. The care taken 
of the aged servants in this country is honorable both to 
master and slave. 

I had often seen Mammy Phillisy and old Daddy Cusha 
— as Isabel, who was attached to them, almost every 
day brings them, with her own hand, "something nice" 
from the table. The first day I took dinner at the Park, 
I noticed this noble girl setting aside several dainties, and 
directing the servant in attendance, in a whisper, to place 
them on a side table ; and I was led from it to believe 
some person, some very dear friend in the house, was an 
invalid. But I soon found that they were for Aunt Phillisy, 
Aunt Daphny, and Father Jack, and other venerable 
Africans of the estate, whose age and helplessness were 
thus tenderly regarded by the children of the master 
they had once faithfully served. 

"Good morning. Aunt Phillisy," I said. 

"Eh, goo' mornee, Mishy Katawinee," answered the 
old slave, with a brightening expression, "howee do, 
Mishy ?" 

" Very well. Aunt Phillisy," replied I, "I hope you and 
old Cusha are doing well." 

" Yeesha, Mishy, we welly wellee. Takee seatee, 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 117 

Mishy," she said, rising and handing me a wicker chair. 
So I sat down and had a long chat with them. Ohl 
Cusha could recollect when he was taken prisoner in 
Africa. He said his people and another tribe fought 
together, that his tribe was beaten, and he, and his mo- 
ther, and brothers, and sisters were all taken by " de 
oder brackee men for gold backshee ; den dey put me 
board de leety ship," continued Cusha, "and, by'm by, 
we come to land, and dey sellee me in Wirginny. Oh, 
it long time 'go, Missee!" 

Aunt Phillisy's memory traveled no farther back than 
" the big blue sea." Iler life in a slaver seemed to have 
made such an indelible impression upon her that it had 
become the era of her memory. Before it, she remcmx- 
bered nothing. Her face, breast, and arms were tattooed 
with scars of gashes, as were those also of her husband. 
While I Avas talking with them, one of their great-grand- 
children came into the cabin. It was as black, as thick 
of lip, as white of eye, as long of heel, as thick of skull, 
as its genuine Afric forebears ; which proved to me that 
the African loses none of his primal characteristics by 
change of climate and circumstances, nor by the progress 
of generations. The reflection was then forced upon my 
mind that these familiar looking negroes, which we see 
every day about us, are indelibly foreigiiers ! Yet what 
Southerner looks upon his slave as a barbarian, from a 
strange, barbarous land, domesticated in his own house, 
his attendant at table, the nurse of his children ? Yet 
no alien in America is so much a foreigner as the ne- 
gro ! 

What a race they are ! How naturally they fall into 
the dependence of bondage ! How familiarly they dwell 



118 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

in Southern liouscliolds ! How intimately they are asso- 
ciated with the inmates ! How necessary to the happi- 
ness and comfort of the beautiful daughter or aristocratic 
lady of the planter, is the constant presence of an Afri- 
ca ness, black, thick-lipped, and speaking broken English, 
— a black daughter of Kedar — whose grandmother may 
have danced the Fetish by the fires of human bones, and 
whose father sacrificed to idols more hideous than them- 
selves ! How little, I say, does the Southerner realize 
who and what the negro is ! Yet these descendants of 
barbarians and wild Afric tribes are docile, gentle, affec- 
tionate, grateful, submissive, and faithful ! In a word, 
they possess every quality that should constitute a good 
servant. No race of the earth makes such excellent do- 
mestics. It is not in training ! They seem to be born 
to it ! Look at the American Indian, and contrast him 
with the African. 

In the early history of the United States, many of 
these were forced into bondage, but soon pined and died ! 
In the West Indies the Spaniards would have made the 
native Indians slaves, and did compel them to toil, but 
in what island of the West Indies are now to be found 
any of their descendants in bondage ? Perished all ! 
The proud spirit of the Indian will not brook vassalage. 
His will bends not, but breaks ! A few months' subjec- 
tion to imprisonment broke the great heart of Osceola ! 
Oh, when I think on the base act of treachery (and by 
an American officer, too) by which that gallant and 
chivalrous chief was inveigled into the hands of the 
Americans, my pulse throbs quicker, and I feel my 
check warm ! It is the darkest act that stains Ame- 
rican history ! And our government connived at it ! 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 119 

Our government, which, next to God's, should be su- 
preme in greatness and glory, justice and mercy, over 
the earth, our government availed itself of the treachery, 
and so made it its own ! Shame on the American arms ! 
Infamy on the name of an officer, who, under a flag of 
truce, could thus violate every principle of honor ! 

There is just now a good deal of talk about the disso- 
lution of the Union.* We ladies even engage in the 
discussion, and, if not with ability, at least with warmth 
and patriotism. With but one exception, I am glad to 
find all the Tennessee ladies I have met are firm union- 
ists. This lady said she hoped to see the '^ North cast 
off," Nashville the capital of a new republic or kingdom, 
when Charleston would rival New York, and New Or- 
leans would be the Constantinople of the world ! How 
my heart pitied her ! Dissolve the Union ! It is to ex- 
patriate ourselves. It is to blot the name of America 
from the scroll of nations. I have no patience with 
such talkers. They know not what they say. What a 
speech Mr. Clay has given the nation ! Last and migh- 
tiest efi*ort of all. As he advances in years, his intellect 
seems to catch glory from the splendor of the world to 
which he is near approaching ! His speech will be re- 
membered through all time. 

Why should such a man as Mr. Clay or Mr. Webster 
wish to be President? This position can add no new 
lustre to their names. As Presidents they would be 
lost in the long list of Presidents that is to be unrolled 
along the tide of time ; but simply as American Sena- 
tors, (titles, than which none are more dignified on 
earth,) they will descend to posterity as the Cicero ynd 
* Written in 1852- 



120 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

Demosthenes .of the early ages of the republic. I woulvl 
say to them, " Senators, if you wish to be great for all 
time, lie down in your sepulchres with the senatorial 
mantle folded upon your breasts." 

You must pardon my bit of politics, Mr. , but 

the Tennessee ladies are all politicians, I believe the most 
zealous to be found anywhere, and I have caught their 
spirit. It strikes me that every true American woman 
should understand the affairs of government, political 
motives, great men, and exciting questions of public in- 
terest. So did the Roman matrons, and, doubtless, the 
Roman maidens. 

But, my paper tells me I must close. 

Respectfully yours, 

Kate. 



I 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 121 



LETTER XVI. 

Dear Mr. : 

I HAVE just finished reading Emerson's great book, 
"Nature." What a well of thought it is! What a 
wonderful man he is to write such wonderful thinfics ! 
He is a metaphysical anatomist. He lays open the uni- 
verse to the soul's eye. He is one of those few writers 
that put in words for us, our own unspoken thoughts, 
those great thoughts that come upon us in the waking 
hours of night, and in the still, holy hour of twilight. 
How many thoughts that I never dreamt of uttering, 
not dreaming they could be written in words, have I 
been startled and pleased to find in this book ! He 
seems to comprehend the mystery of life, and teach us 
what and for what we are. The questions which a child 
asks, and which puzzle a philosopher to answer, this 
philosopher answers with the simplicity of a child. He 
delights us, because we feel that he has felt, and thought, 
and wondered, as we have felt, and thought, and won- 
dered ! His book must make its way to the hearts of 
all who think ; of all who look at tlie stars, and ponder 
with awe and solemn curiosity thereupon ; of all who 
look dowuAvard into their own spirits, and meditate upon 
the mystery they are ! 

Mr. Emerson calls the visible universe the scoria of 
spirit! He says, that all spirit has a tendency to visi- 



122 THE SUNNY south; or, 

bility — hence result the visible world, the heavens, and 
the earth. A visible creature is the ultimatum of spirit. 
The physical powers of Deity are visible in the grandeur 
of creation — the moral were made visible in the person 
of Jesus Christ, who was the "Godhead visible." These 
are wonderful sayings to think upon. They help vastly 
towards unfolding the mighty thoughts that rush upon the 
soul at times. Mr. Emerson's must delight all right 
minds. The whole scope of his Christian philosophy, 
however, I can not accept. He stops short of revelation, 
and all true philosophy should point to the Christian 
doctrine of the cross. 

Ticknor's charming and elaborate work on Spanish 
literature, I have just completed. How shall I express 
my thanks to this laborious and elegant scholar, for the 
delight and instruction I have been recipient of from its 
pages ! How little have the best Spa^nish students 
known of Castilian literature ! The educated world, both 
sides of the sea, are under infinite obligations to Mr. 
Ticknor for this book. The only fault I can find with 
it, is the obscurity in which he has left the question 
touching the authorship of that fascinating work, Gon- 
salvo de Cordova. I have two books with this title, but 
am at a loss to know which it is he describes, whether 
the one commencing "Castas musas," or another. But 
one fault is a spot on the sun. I have no doubt Mr. 
Ticknor's work will create a taste for Spanish literature. 
There is none that surpasses it. The best of it is still 
in MS., and some of it remains locked up in the xA.rabic 
character. It is odd that the bulk of Spanish literature 
should consist of comedies, when we reflect that the 
Spaniards are the gravest people in Europe. The 



TnE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 123 

Pretich, who are the lightest people, excel most in 
tragedy! These facts need accounting for. 

Last evenino; Isabel read to us one of Mrs. Lee Ilentz's 
finely conceived and gracefully penned stories. We 
^Ycre all charmed with it, and the colonel, naughty man ! 
who thinks ladies are good for nothing but to stitch and 
sew, play the guitar and piano, marveled ''that a woman 
could write so well." He even goes so far in his pre- 
judice as to refuse to read a book written by a female I 
Isabel read Madame de Stael's "Corinne" in French, to 
him, lately, and he was as charmed v/ith it as the authoress 
could have desired. He would even forego his afternoon 
nap and cigar after dinner, to come to the drawing-room 
to listen. We have a conspiracy against him, and mean 
ho shall yet confess that books written by women are the 
only books worth reading. 

We are somewhat puzzled to know who wrote "Shir- 
ley," a m.an or woman! / am satisfied it is a woman. 
It is a well told story, but does not deserve half the 
praise that has been lavished upon it. Mrs. Ann S. 
Stephens has more talent, and can write better than the 
author of "Shirley." If this book had been trimmed 
of full one hundred and fifty pages of prosy verbiage, 
the balance would have entitled it to a place by the side 
of the "Vicar of Wakefield ;" but as it is, it will not live 
two years, — it will never become a library book. Poor 
Goldsmith! What a pity he is not alive to enjoy tbe 
sunshine of his posthumous popularity! Last week I 
saw a copy of Shakspcare, superbly illustrated. It cost 
$150. I sighed that "Witty Will" was not living to 
read his own works in such splendid drapery. How 
such things mock all human glory ! Great men live and 



124 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

strusrsrle, and toil, not for themselves, but for the future. 

OO 7 7 ' 

They die ignorant that they leave an imperishable name 
on the earth. How few men have cotemporaneous 
fame! Washington Irving, Bryant, and Tom Moore, 
have it ! and they say poor Moore has become imbecile. 
I mentioned this to a young lady whom I heard singing 
one of his songs. 

"Is he?" she replied, in a half inquiring, half indiffer- 
ent tone, and went on with her song. 

"Such," thought I, "is immortality! Such is human 
glory! A great man dies — a great poet becomes in- 
sane — and the world says, 'Is he?' and rolls on as 
before !" 

I have been for a couple of days past on a visit to a 
neighboring estate. Upon it is a large, green mound, 
which the proprietor excavated for our entertainment. 
The result was the dishumation of several beautiful vases 
of lemon-colored clay, baked like porcelain ; arrow heads, 
beads, bones, amulets, and idols. One of the last 
weighed seventy pounds, was the size of a boy six years 
old, carved out of limestone. It was seated a la Turk^ 
and had a hideously ugly face. It, nevertheless, proves 
that the Indians had notions of sculpture. It is pre- 
cisely like the pictures of such deities in Stephens' book 
on Central America. It is to be sent to the celebrated 
cabinet of Professor Troost, in Nashville, a collection 
not surpassed in the Union. The doctor is a venerable 
Dr. Franklin looking man, is an enthusiastic geologist, 
and is polite to the ladies, especially the young and 
beautiful, for though he has seen eighty-one years, he 
can distinguish specimens in that way. 

A young friend of ours, who lives not far distant, and 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 125 

is a frequent visitor at the Park, after paying a visit to 
this cabinet, was seized with the cacoethes of ffeoloo-izino- 

TT 1 o a !r>' 

lie passed two weeks in the woods and hills, and Avander- 
ing along rivulets, till he loaded himself and two slaves 
down with specimens. With them he made his way to 
the presence of the worthy doctor, whom he intended 
both to gratify and surprise with his rich donations to 
science. 

The venerable professor received him and his treasures 
with his characteristic courtesy, and when he under- 
stood that the specimens were destined to enrich the 
cabinet, his fine old Franklin face brightened with de- 
light. I will describe the scene in our friend's own 
words : 

" The first rock he took out he glanced at, and tossed 
it aside, with some indistinct sounds I could not under- 
stand. I thought it was German. The next rock, which 
I took to be a fine agate, he tossed away with the same 
muttering. So he went on till he had thrown away a 
dozen, each one with looks of increased disappointment 
and unconcealed contempt. 

" ' What is that you say about them, doctor V I asked. 

" ' Vater vorn — all vater vorn.' 

" ' Water worn ? What is that ?' I asked. 

"'Worn smoot'; not'in* but bebbles. Dey goot for 
not'in', if dey all de same!' 

"^They are all the same,' I replied, chop-fallen. 

"'Den dey all good for not'in'.' 

"I told the boys to shovel them back into the bags, 
and as I saw a shy twinkle in the professor's eye, I dis- 
solved!" 

Perhaps no state is so rich as Tennessee in geology. 



126 THE SUNNY south; or, 

A bare inspection of this ca1)inot will show this. The 
doctor has some rare diamonds and jewels, which he 
takes great pleasure in showing to the ladies; and his 
collection of polished stones will shame even the most 
brilliant show-case of your much extolled Bailey & Co. 
Among the curiosities is a bowie-knife wrought out 
of a thunderbolt, (magnetic iron,) which fell in this 
state. 

The iron of this description is beautifully crystalized, 
unlike any thing belonging to terrestrial geology. The 
"water worn" specimen collector, above mentioned, was, 
not a great while since, the subject of an amusing inci- 
dent. He has been for some time an admirer of a cousin 
of Isabel's, a belle and a fortune: and it was settled they 
were to marry. But one evening when he called, he 
found her unaccountably distant and cold. She would 
only answer him in monosyllables, and with scarcely an 
opening in her lips. If he drew near her, she would 
draw back ; if he demanded an explanation, she replied 
only by silence. At length he arose and left, and she 
silently bowed him ''good night." Unable to account 
for such conduct, and wondering how he could have 
offended her, he early next morning came riding at 
spur-speed to the Park, to unfold his distress to his fair 
friend, Isabel, and beg her intercession to heal the 
breach. 

He had hardly got through his story and received 
Isabel's promise, before her cousin was announced. She 
entered, arrayed in an elegant green riding costume, 
with a snow white plume pending to her shoulder. She 
looked earnest and anxious. But, seeing her lover, she 
was about to smile and address him in a frank and 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 127 

usual manner, when liis cold how and haughty air chilled 
her. She turned away, and, embracing her cousm, 
w^alked throus^h the foldino; doors into the farther room 
with her. Here she told her hoAV she had offended her 
betrothed, and had ridden over to get her to explain 
matters. 

"You must know, Isabel, that the doctor prescribed 
for my sick -headache, j^esterday, six onions, cut fine, 
eaten raw, with vinegar, pepper, and salt. Well, I fol- 
lowed the prescription ; and I assure you they were very 
nice; and they cured my head. So I went into the 
parlor to practice a new waltz, when, without my know- 
ing he was in the house, Harry entered the parlor. I 
instantly remembered the horrid onions and felt like a 
culprit ! I would have fled, but it was too late. What 
should I do ? I had to remain and entertain him. But 
mercy! I dared not open my mouth, lest my breath 
should betray the fatal secret ! So I monosyllabled him 
— ^kept as far off from him as possible ; and at last he 
went off, his handsome eyes flashing like two stars. 
Now you must go and tell him how it was, and make 
it up." 

You may be sure, Mr. , that with two willing 

hearts the reconciliation was not long in being effected ; 
and the lovers rode away together perfectly happy. 
Poor Harry ! water-worn pebbles, and onions with vinegar 
and pepper, are now his abhorrence ! 

I have half a mind to try my pen at a tale for you, 
Mr. . Mrs. Lee Hentz's beautiful stories have in- 
spired me with a desire to attempt something in the 
same way. I feel diffident of my ability to adventure 



128 THE SUNNY south; or, 

into the higher fiehl of literature — but I can try. If it 
will not pass ^Hhe ordeal of your critic's eye," you have 
only to call it ''water worn;" and throw it away with 
other pebbles. 

Kespectfully, 

Kate. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 129 



LETTER XVII. 



My dear Mr. : 

When you hear I have been to the great "Nashville 
Convention," I fear me you will have no more to do with 
me. It was curiosity that tempted me, and, being a 
"Yankee Girl," I felt the greatest desire to be present 
at a meeting which w^as drawing the attention of the 
whole Union, if not of the whole world. The colonel 
is a true Southern man in interests as well as feeling, 
and, at breakfast table on the morning of the 3d inst., 
he said, in his badinage manner : 

" Kate, what say you to going to the Convention?" 

"The Nashville Convention, sir ?" I exclaimed, with a 
start of innate horror. 

" Yes ; it begins its session to-day. It is but three 
hours' drive into town, and I am going in to see what 
they are going to do. Isabel is desirous of being pre- 
sent, as ladies are especially invited to grace the assem- 
blage." 

" I thought they were to meet with closed doors, colo- 
nel," I said, in my innocence, having the ghost of the 
Hartford Convention before my eyes. # 

"No ; they will do all open and fearlessly, Kate. If 
you can overcome your scruples enough to be of the 
party, we should be delighted to have 3'OU go." 

After a few moments' reflection, I concluded to con- 
9 



130 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

sent, though I must confess with some compunctions of 
conscience, Mr. , for I religiously believed the Con- 
vention to be traitorous in its spirit, in its views, and in 
its tendencies. 

The carriage was at the door as soon as breakfast was 
over, and, after three hours' drive, we entered Nashville, 
a city, as I have before remarked, presenting the most 
charming aspect to the approacher of any inland town in 
the Union. The tall, Egyptian towers of the Presbyte- 
rain church, the Gothic battlements of the Episcopalian, 
and the pointed turrets of the Baptist, the fortress-like 
outline of the half-finished Capitol, and the dome of the 
Court house, with the numerous cupolas, galleries, 
groves, and bridges, together form a coup d'oeil that 
enchants the eye. On our road, we had overtaken an 
open traveling barouche, containing two South Caro- 
linians, on their way to the Convention. One of them 
being known and recognized by the colonel, we had quite 
an animated conversation, as we rode side by side. 

Arrived in town, we stopped at an elegant mansion, 
the abode of a relation of the colonel, where we were 
made S-s much at home as we could have been at the 
Park. We found the city thronged with strangers from 
all the Southern states, and the houses of the best fami- 
lies were hospitably opened to entertain them. Upon 
expressing my surprise to an eminent whig jurist opposed 
to the Convention, that he should have thrown open the 
largest and best rooms of his house to the members of it, 
he remarked that " he could never forget the laws of 
hospitality, and that it was his opinion that strangers 
visiting the city should be received with kindness and 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 131 

civility." I lionorerl the venerable gentleman for this 
specimen of old Roman feeling. 

The Convention at first convened in the Odd Fellows' 
Hall, a large and beautiful edifice^ut not being found 
convenient for the accommodation of spectators, espe- 
cially the ladies, the McKendree Church, which is the 
most spacious in the city, was offered to it and accepted. 
As we entered the vestibule, which was thronged with 
gentlemen, I noticed a placard, reading in large letters 
as follows : " The pews on each side of the church on the 
floor, reserved for ladies ; and no gentleman without a 
lady to be admitted on the floor unless he is a member. 
This rule will be strictly enforced." 

Upon entering, we found the house filled, the mem- 
bers occupying the body of the church, the ladies, 
like borders of flowers, (that is a gallant delegate's 
figure of speech,) enclosing them on each side, and the 
galleries packed with lookers-on and lookers-down, some 
of them with their hats on their heads, for there are 
some men that don't know when they ought to keep their 
hats off. Through the politeness of General , a gen- 
tleman as distinguished for his patriotism as for his 
politeness, we were escorted to an advantageous seat near 
the platform, although we did not turn any gentleman 
out of his seat in order to get places for ourselves. 

I know of nothing more uncivil or worthy of being re- 
buked, than that rudeness so common among ladies, which 
leads them to make a gentleman sacrifice to them a seat, 
which, perhaps, he has with much difficulty obtained for 
himself. It is the duty of every man coming into a 
crowded room with ladies, to find places for them without 
discommoding other men. I saw two " ladies" come in and 



132 THE SUNNY south; or, 

stand before a pew, and look steadily at an elderly gen- 
tleman in it, as if they were resolved to look him out of 
his seat, though his wife and daughters were with him in 
the pew ; but the height of impertinence is for a man 
with females under escort, to ask another gentleman to 
rise and give his seat to the ladies ; yet, during the session 
of the Convention, I saw this thing done repeatedly. 
Madame de Stael says, in her admirable " Corinne :" 
^'I'id^e que les grands seigneurs de Rome ont de I'hon- 
neur et du devoir, c'est d^ ne pas quitter d'un pas ni 
d'un instant leur dame." I fully subscribe to this law 
of manners in its application to the present purpose. 

"VYhen we entered, Mr. Hammond, of South Carolina, 
was addressing the chair, which was filled by a dignified, 
Andrew Jackson-looking man, who, I learned from the 
colonel, who knows almost everybody, was Judge Sharkey, 
of Mississippi. Mr. Hammond's head struck me as very 
fine. He is of a pale, intellectual aspect, with a high 
forehead, white and polished ; indeed, his w^liole face 
was almost as colorless as alabaster, and seemed chiseled 
out of marble. What he said was moderate and conser- 
vative, and what particularly surprised me throughout 
the nine days sitting of the Convention, was the calm, 
dignified, and impassioned attitude taken and held by 
the South Carolina delegation. They spoke little, giv- 
ing the lead to others rather than taking it themselves, 
yet it was perhaps the most talented, Mississippi alone 
excepted, delegation in the Convention. Barnwell Rhet, 
of South Carolina, spoke during the day, and made a 
favorable impression. He is a strong-minded man, with 
a head something like late Attorney-General Legar^'s, 
and a manner highly courteous in debate : and this 



THE SOUTHEPtNER AT HOME. 133 

finislied courtesy seems to me characteristic of these 
Carolinian gentlemen. Mr. Barnwell (since chosen 
United States Senator in place <if Mr. Elmore) also 
made a short reply to one of the delegates. He is a 
strong man, and holds rank with the leading intellects 
of the South. His intellectual weight will be felt in 
the Senate. Mr. Cheves, of the same delegation, is a 
hale, white-headed old gentleman, with a fine port-wine 
tint to his florid cheek. He has a high reputation, I 
believe, but during the session he said but little. The 
most eloquent man of this delegation is Mr. Pickens. 
He made a speech on the sixth day that surpassed any 
thing in the way of forensic eloquence I ever imagined. 
He has a face like one of the old Roman emperors, which 
I have seen on a coin, Nerva, I think, and his oratory is 
worthy of the Forum. By turns, calm and tempestuous, 
gentle and strong, witty and withering, logical and ima- 
ginative ; at one moment, the audience would be startled 
with the thunders of the rock-beating surges ; and at 
another, soothed by the soft zephyrs of a summer sea. 
His rhetoric was profusely ornamented with figures and 
metaphors, like an exquisite mosaic. Altogether, he is 
one of the most finished orators it has been my good 
fortune to listen to ; and the colonel says, his speech on 
this occasion was worthy to be compared to the most 
noble efforts of Wirt and Patrick Henry. South Caro- 
lina, in truth, sent her jewels here, and their talents have 

won them golden opinions. Be assured, Mr. , that 

the sentiments of this state have been misrepresented. 
Throughout the Convention, her sons were models of 
conservatism and healthy patriotism. Seated near them 
was the Mayor of Charleston, called "the handsome 



134 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

Mayor," Mr. 11 , a worthy descendant of Colonel 

Hutchinson, of Cromwoll's time, and of the Mrs. Hutch- 
inson, whose memoirs are so well known. He was 
pointed out to me by a lady with : " Don't you think he 
is the handsomest man in the house?" He is not a de- 
legate, but only a "looker-on in Venice." He has been 
to the Mammoth Cave, near here, within a few days 
past, and his description of it to me I must give you, it 
is so truthful : '' The sensation," said he, " on beholding 
it when standing beneath the main dome is precisely like 
that experienced in gazing upon Niagara ; it is Niagara 
in repose.'^ 

The Virginia delegation took a very active part in all 
the debates. It was, if possible, more ultra than any 
of the rest. The Hon. Beverly Tucker, a half brother 
of John Randolph, spoke often, but what he said did not 
please me. He is, moreover, past his vigor, and enter- 
ing his dotage. His speech was exceedingly bitter, and 
out of temper. It was the only one that was recrimi- 
nating against the North ; for a spirit of forbearance in 
this direction has peculiarly marked the whole body. 
The North is alluded to as "our northern brethren," or 
"our sister states," &c., and there is almost, as I have said, 
a total absence of vituperation. Mr. Tucker, however, 
something in the spirit and something in the manner of 
Randolph, of Roanoke, let out his bitterness, and was 
sometimes forgetful that ladies were present. He is a 
venerable and gentlemanly-looking man, and bears a high 
reputation, I believe, but it is rather for what he has 
been. The most able and patriotic member of the Vir- 
ginia delegation was Mr. Gordon, who spoke always well, 
and to the purpose. He has something of the massive- 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 135 

ness of Webster in his manner of speaking, and was 
always listened to with deep interest. The several dele- 
gations from the several states, (nine states in all,) were 
seated each by itself. The two places of honor, the 
front pews on each side of the broad aisle, directly in front 
of the President's chair, were given to South Carolina 
and Mississippi ; on the right of the latter was Virginia, 
occupying two pews ; on the left of Carolina was Florida. 
In the rear of South Carolina w^as Alabama, and in the 
rear of Mississippi were placed the Georgians. The Ten- 
nessee delegates, among whom was General Pillow, in a 
military white vest, and Major W. H. Polk, the late Pre- 
sident's brother, occupied the side pew on the left of the 
pulpit. In front of the pulpit is a carpeted platform, 
within the chancel-railing, on which a dozen little green 
tables were placed for editors and reporters. 

In the centre, before the desk, sat Judge Sharkey and 
the vice-president. Gov. McDonald of Georgia, supported 
by their secretaries. What, with the vast assemblage 
before them, and the reflections upon the important sub- 
ject which had convened such a House, the whole scene 
was imposing and solemn in the extreme. Perhaps 
since the meeting of the Signers of the Declaration of 
our priceless Independence, no Convention has been as- 
sembled in the Union, so fraught with profound and 
sober interest as this. It was no assemblage of young 
politicians, ambitious for notoriety. Everywhere, as I 
looked over the house, my eyes fell on gray heads vene- 
rable by wisdom. The majority of the members were 
men whose names are known to the world with distinc- 
tion, — men who are the pride, and glory, and honor of 
the South. Governors, Judges, ex-members of Congress, 



136 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

eminent jurists, and distinguished orators, composed the 
assembly. Dignified in its character, calm, and delibe- 
rate in its debates, — as if impressed with the solem- 
nity of their combined attitude before the country and 
the world, — they struck me as forming, for the time 
being, the true Congress of the country; for the consti- 
tutional assemblies at Washington seemed to be sus- 
pended in action while this one was in session, as if wait- 
ing for the result of its deliberations. And there is lit- 
tle doubt but there was as much talent in this Congress 
as in that. All its proceedings were marked by the 
severest parliamentary etiquette ; and I heard gentlemen, 
who dined at the house where we were guests, say that 
the whole tone and temper of the proceedings and 
discussions were not unworthy of the United States 
Senate. You see I am getting to be quite a Southerner 
in feeling. But I must describe as I saw, and write as 
I feel. Opposed as I was to the Convention, I cannot 
withhold justice where it is due. At first the citizens 
of Nashville were opposed to it; but day-by-day, as its 
sessions advanced, it grew into favor. The galleries 
(the people sovereign) thundered applause, and the ladies 
smiled approbation. 

The members beguiled the tedium of the reading of 
the resolutions in going from pew to pew, chatting with 
the beautiful women, and the sessions were thus varied 
by some interesting flirtations on the part of the hand- 
some widowers, and married men, too, to say nothing of 
bachelors, who seem to live single in order to flirt. 
Brilliant parties had been given nearly every evening to 
the delegates, and dinner parties were the order of the 
day. The whole city, all the time of the session, was in 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 137 

delightful excitement; and fair widows and beautiful 
girls reigned in all tlieir splendor and power. Many a 
heart was lost, — and some of the most firm disunionists 
brought over to the opinion that one kind of union is 
at least very desirable. Probably Nashville has never 
seen so gay a fortnight as that during the sitting of this 
brilliant Convention. 

The most talented and active member of the Mississippi 
delegation was a Mr. McRea, a young man, but who 
has made himself a m^an of mark, by the display of his 
talents for debate on this occasion. The most exciting 
speech made, was by the Hon. Mr. Colquitt of Georgia. 
He is athletic, short, compact, and iron-looking, with a 
large intellectual head, thick with wiry, gray hair, grow- 
ing erect all over it ; a jutting, black brow, and a firm 
mouth, the whole man and the whole face being stamped 
with a rough, fiery energy. He rose to reply to some 

moderate member, against the Compromise, I believe 

and growing excited, he jumped from his pew into the 
broad aisle, to have more space. Here he spoke with 
iperhct abandonment! His voice rung like a buo-le ! He 
would rapidly advance, sometimes five or six steps, as if 
about to leap the chancel railing at a bound, and then 
stopping full, terribly stamp, stamp his right foot, and 
discharge his artillery-like thoughts, which seemed 
bursting for more vehemence than he could give them ; 
(and never man had more ;) at another time he would re- 
treat step by step, speaking slowly in whispering irony, 
half down the aisle, when suddenly leaping into the air, 
his voice would explode like a shell, and electrify us all. 

Now he would turn round and appeal to this delegate 

now face an opposite one; now he would advance like a 



138 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

skirmisher, and utter hoarse, denunciatory whispers to 
the President in the chair, as if for his especial ear. In 
a word, he made a most extraordinary speech, in which 
the manner of all the best orators of the land was mixed 
up with that of some of the worst. It was in oratory, 
what a medley would be in song ! It was wild, fierce, 
terrible, dreadful, mad — yet most wonderful to listen to. 
It was eloquence tied to the back of a wild horse, Ma- 
zeppa-like ! 

General Pillow also spoke several times, and spoke 
well. I had the greatest curiosity to see him, having 
heard so much of him. He lives in elegant and opulent 
retirement, not far south of Nashville, and is very popular 
in this state, and may be the next governor. All those 
foolish stories told about him by the papers, have been 
proved to have no foundation, and ought to be dismissed 
from the public mind. He is in the prime of life, de- 
cidedly a handsome man, with a marked military air. 
There is a smile in his eyes, and which generally plays 
about his finely shaped firm mouth, that renders the ex- 
pression of his countenance singularly pleasing. He 
looks like a gallant and chivalrous gentleman, and his 
speeches were all patriotic and to the point. This dis- 
tinguished man has been called vain, because some sup- 
pose he wrote a self-commending account of the battle in 
which he had fought so well. 

There is classic authority for such a sentiment, which 
I believe is not an unworthy part of human nature. 
Pliny says, in his nineteenth letter, book ninth, to Rufo : 
"In my opinion, every man who has acted a great, a 
distinguished part, deserves not only io be excused, but 
approved, if he endeavors to secure immortality to the 



THE SOUTHERNER AT UOME. 189 

fame he has merited, and to perpetuate an everlasting 
remembrance of himself." Frontinus forbade a monu- 
ment to be erected to him, saying, " The remembrance 
of me will remain if my actions deserve it !" Some men 
call this modest in Frontinus, but in my opinion it is the 
perfection of vanity ; for he is so impressed with the cer- 
tainty that his actions will be remembered, that he pro- 
claims it to the world. I think every man who performs 
noble actions, should take pains that they are set right 
for the eyes of posterity ; and if such a course be vain, 
then is Csesar the vainest of men, as he was among the 
bravest and wisest. 

Why is it, Mr. , (listening to the debates has led 

me to the reflection,) that men talk to one or tivo per- 
sons, but declaim to a hundred ? You see the absurdity 
of making a loud and oratorical harangue to a single 
auditor, yet let another and another be added, till there 
is an assembly, and the conversation is elevated to ora- 
torical declamation. Pliny, who is a great favorite with 
me, speaking of the same subject, says : 

" The reason I imagine to be, that there is, I know 
not what dignity in the collective sentiments of a mul- 
titude, and though separately their judgment is, per- 
haps, of little weight, yet, when united, it becomes re- 
spectable." 

Major Wm. H. Polk spoke two or three times early 
in the session. He has a remarkable voice, deep as a 
volcano. He is a handsome man, but is bearded like 
an Ottoman chief. His manner of delivery is striking, 
from his emphatic enunciation. With every word, he 
makes an energetic nod forward, and the vowels are all 
enunciated with the precision of an elocutionist, in 



140 TnE suxNY south; or, 

particular the terminations ion, which he pronounces 
round and full in two distinct syllables, like a Spaniard 
speaking his own sonorous tongue. He always spoke to 
the purpose, and with great boldness. 

To show you how little popular applause can be ap- 
pealed to as a criterion of opinions, I heard the galleries 
one hour applaud a suggestion of " non-intercourse," and 
the next hour a defence of the Union. After passing 
their series of resolutions and ''Address to the Southern 
States," on the ninth day the Convention adjourned to 
meet again at Nashville, where they have been so 
agreeably entertained, the sixth Monday after the ad- 
journment of Congress, if the action of that body prove 
hostile to Southern interests. Moderate men regard this 
as an imprudent challenge, and perilous to be taken up. 

After a few local resolutions, voting thanks to the 
citizens of Nashville for their hospitality and to " the 
ladies for their smiles," the president made a neat fare- 
well speech, and the house adjourned. The gallant 
Charleston delegation won high favor by making a pre- 
sent to the church of a superb carpet to compensate for 
the wear of that which covered the floor during the ses- 
sion. These South Carolina gentlemen have a thought- 
ful savoir faire way of doing just what ought to be done. 

Now, Mr. , I have given you a sketch of my impres- 
sions of this famed Convention. I hope you will not deem 
it treasonable to publish it. What the result and influ- 
ence of the action of this body will be, is not for a fe- 
male pen to venture to say, but I believe firmly that it 
will have a tendency to consolidate the Union. The 
whole temper and tone of the proceedings cannot fail to 
command the respect of the North; and I hope and 



TIIF SOTJTHEIINER AT HOME. IJl 

heartily pray that the end of this unhappy difference will 
be to settle upon a firmer basis, the noble political institu- 
tions which command the admiration and homage of the 
nations of the earth. 

Respectfully, 
Kate. 



142 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OP.^ 



LETTER XVIII. 



My dear Mr. : 

I HAVE a secret for your especial ear-trumpet, but, 
perhaps you are not old and deaf, and so don't use a 
trumpet ; but the only two editors I ever saw, were both 
deaf, and kept clapping their ear-trumpets to their tym- 
pana, like two sportsmen bringing Colt's rifles to their 
eyes. The secret is this : Last evening, Juba, who brings 
our mail from town, placed a letter in my hand, ad- 
dressed, "Miss Catharine Conyngham, care of Col. , 

«S^c." I thought the hand-writing was my brother's, the 
midshipman, and tore the seal w^ith fingers trembling, 
and heart bounding. But it proved to be from an editor 

— yes, Mr. , a real editor, and publisher of a weekly 

literary paper. And what do you think was the pur- 
port of it ? I dare say, if I left it to you to say, you 
would be wicked enough to reply, "A declaration of 
love." It was no such thing ! It was a very polite re- 
quest that I would contribute some "Needles" to his 
paper, and if I could not furnish him with a series of 
"Needles," to oblige him with a series of "Tales." 
Tales ? I, who have not the least grain of imagination, 
write tales ! My reply I shall defer, till I hear from you 
and have your permission ; for, I do not feel that I can, 
in justice, contribute to any other columns without your 
fjill consent — for you are my literary god-father, Mr. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 143 

. Suppose I write a talo for you. I will try. 

Perliaps it may turn out a simple affair, in that case you 
won't publish it, and so no harm will be done. It is one 
thing to write sketches, and quite another thing to write 
a thrilling tale. In a week or two, I will see what I can 
do, and send you the first fruit of my venture into the 
w^orld of fiction, "Perhaps it may turn out a song, 
perhaps turn out a sermon." 

You Avill be interested to know that I have not heard 
a blow struck on this estate, and the colonel says he has 
not punished one of his slaves in seven years. It is 
true all men are not like the good colonel, yet for the 
most part the planters are kind and considerate towards 
their slaves. They often give them Saturday afternoons, 
and all day Sunday, when they appear in holiday attire, 
gayest of the gay. They are all great lovers of going 
to meeting, and delight in hearing preaching^ and their 
fixed and earnest attention in church, might be an ex- 
ample to their superiors. Marriages are performed by 
the planters themselves, w^ith great show of ceremony, 
by gravely reading the service from the prayer-book. 
We had a wedding last week ; Jenny, the sempstress, a 
pretty mulatress, being married to Charles, the ebony 
coachman of Dr. Bellman, who lives three miles from us. 

At seven o'clock, the whole party made its appearance 
in the great hall, at one end of which stood the colonel, 
Isabel, myself, and several friends from the neighboring 
plantations. Dressed in white — a white satin petticoat, 
with book-muslin robe worn over, and with a wreath of 
flowers, which Isabel had gathered from rare plants in the 
conservatory upon her head, with a liigh comb, and long 
lace veil, ear-riiags, bracelets, and satin shoes with span- 



144 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

gles, the bride first entered, attended by her two bride's- 
maids — one of these, my handsome negress, Eda. The 
bride's-maids were both dressed very richly, Isabel having 
given one of them one of her beautiful dresses, and loaned 
her diamond pin and ruby bracelets. I also decked out 
my Eda in a figured white muslin, two bracelets, a neck- 
lace and brooch, and she really looked superb, with her 
large, fine eyes and graceful figure. From the neigh- 
boring estates were several females, handsomely dressed, 
and wearing their mistresses' willingly loaned jewels, so 
that, at this wedding of slaves, shone more jewels (thanks 
to the kind indulgence of masters and mistresses) than 
are often seen in more elegant assemblies. 

The hall was soon filled, and as far as I could see into 
the piazza beyond, was a sea of woolly heads, of "cul- 
lered" gentlemen and ladies. Dr. Bellman, a hale gen- 
tleman of the most frank and cordial manners, white 
hair, ruddy cheeks, portly form, and always laughing, 
and telling some funny story — he himself ''gave away the 
bride." The colonel read the service for the ceremony 
in a clear and solemn voice; and all passed oif with the 
utmost decorum and gravity. The bride was not kissed 
by the colonel ! The marriage ended, the vfhole party, 
full three hundred Africans in all, went to the lower gal- 
lerv that half surrounds the house, and is full one hun- 
dred feet long, by eighteen wide, and here they formed 
into cotillions. The gallery, enclosed by Venetian blinds, 
was lighted up for the occasion, and three fiddlers, and 
a banjo, and castinets, were perched upon a platform at 
one end, where they played with a zeal and unweariness 
that I had never seen equaled. At eleven o'clock, they 
were invited by the colonel to supper, which was laid in 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 145 

the gallery of the kitchen, itself a long structure, en- 
closed by a broad piazza. We all stood by and enjoyed 
the happiness of the Congoese festivity. One young 
^'cullered gentleman," brother to the bride, and some- 
thing of a Beau Brummel in his way, remarked to me, 
with a low bow, and with his hand on his heart — 

"Nebber see, young missis, nebber see so much beauty 
afore, at no weddin'. De ladies looks splendid, specially 
de purty Miss Edy! She de belle ob de party!" 

Throughout the supper the utmost order prevailed — 
nay, politeness reigned! Give me "cullered gemmen" 
at a "cullered" party for your true and genuine polite- 
ness ! The white gemmen are not one half so courteously 
polite to us white ladies, as they are to their "fair sec!" 
Bows and smiles, and Brummellian bends of the body, 
displayings of teeth, and white perfumed pocket hand- 
kerchiefs, and glances of adoring white eyes, were the 
chief features of the scene. 

In the course of the evening, a strange, odd, amusing 
sea captain dropped in. He had been all over the 
world, and lived longer on a ship than on land. He was 
now on a visit to his sister, who was married to a planter 
who lives near us, and where we visit intimately, and 
whom he had not seen in twenty years past. Among 
other curiosities which he brought her, and which in- 
cluded two live monkeys, to say nothing of ugly-faced gods 
of all the heathen nations on earth, was a Bengal tiger ! 
The animal had been given him when a cub, for some 
service he had performed for some Rajah, and he had 
kept it as a pet till it had got nearly its full growth, and 
too large to stay in his ship. Indeed, he said that it 
had, on the voyage home to New Orleans, nearly killed 
10 



146 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

one of his seamen. So lie bronglit him up to Tennessee 
in a cage, and his monkeys in another, and some half 
score of splendid foreign birds in a third. No wonder, 
as he laughingly says they did, that they took him for 
a menagerie exhibitor. His sister was delighted with 
the birds ! amused with the pranky monkeys ! and horri- 
fied at the Bengal gentleman in velvet ! 

This famous captain, having, as he said, "boarded us 
in the midst of the sport," after looking on awhile, came 
to the resolution to show us a regular built '' Guinea Coast 
fandango dance," which he said he had often witnessed 
on the coast of Africa. Never was any thing so ridicu- 
lous as the scene which now took place. The captain, 
having selected eight of the genteel " culler ed pussons," 
four men and four women, the former in white waist- 
coats, the latter in white muslins and net gloves, pro- 
ceeded to explain the dance to them with amusing min- 
uteness. 

He seemed to be much surprised that they showed so 
little aptitude to learn, expressing it as his opinion that 
the dance ought to come to them naturally. But he 
soon found that the fashionable African gentlemen and 
ladies, whom he was trying to initiate into the heathen 
mysteries of their ancestors, had no more penchant to- 
wards such outlandish doings, than other civilized people. 
Indeed, the cullered circle upon which he would have 
forced this "old country" cotillion, felt their feelings 
hurt by the insinuation which his efforts conveyed. The 
civilized negro is very desirous to bury his pagan juba- 
jumping ancestors in oblivion. He wishes to forget his 
heathen origin ; and the more removed he is from them, the 
more aristocratic he is. A newly-imported African is 



THE SOUTITERNEll AT HOME. 147 

decidedly vulgar ! The merry captain at last gave up 
his pupils in despair, and entertained us for an hour 
after we reached the drawing-room, with graphic and 
well given stories of what he had seen in far lands, "be- 
yond the rising 23lace of the sun." 

At twelve the party broke up, and the invited guests 
from other plantations mounted their plough horses or 
mules, loaned for the purpose, and sought their own 
dwellings, galloping away in the moonlight, and laugh* 
ing and talking like children on a holiday, till they were 
out of hearing. 

I forgot to say that the supper had been gotten up 
by Isabel and myself, and that it was both handsome 
and costly. A dozen frosted cakes, jellies, preserved 
fruits, pies, custards, floating island, blanc mange, and 
other nice things too numerous to mention, were upon 
the table. In the centre, and at each end, was a pyra- 
mid of cake, wreathed with flowers. Indeed, had the 
colonel given a party to Isabel, her supper could not 
have been much more elegant or expensive. 

The captain, who accepted the colonel's hospitality for 
the night, caused a great deal of sport this morning by 
trying to ride ! He absolutely knew nothing about a 
horse ; hardly can tell the stirrup from the bridle ! With 
a horse-block to aid him, he got into the saddle, but the 
horse had not trotted six steps before he was out of it 
on the ground, having lost his balance. After three 
attempts, each of which ended in his being tossed out 
of his seat, by the motion of the horse, he insisted on 
being tied by the feet, or " lashed under the keel," as 
he called it. Peter, the black hostler, always accustomed 
to obey, gratified him by performing this favor for him, 



148 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

and thus firmly secured, he gave the animal the hit 
and a blow with his fist simultaneously on the haunch. 
The consequence was that Arab, who is a spirited fellow, 
set off with him at full gallop, and as the park-gate was 
fortunately not open to the forest, he swept with him at 
full speed round and round the circular carriage-way of 
the lawn. Isabel and I were already in our saddles, for 
we were going out on a morning gallop, and we began to 
feel some anxiety for the worthy captain, who passed us 
bare-headed, his teeth set, and his hands grasping Arab's 
mane, while the reins flew wildly in the air. If the 
rope, by which his feet were tied, had parted, he would 
have been dashed to the earth. As it was, he began to 
slip, and hang sidewise upon the horse's neck, and I 
really believe if the colonel's commanding voice had not 
caused Arab to stop, the captain would the next minute 
have been underneath the horse, with his feet bottom 
upwards over the saddle ! 

" I would rather ride out an equinoctial gale, lashed 
to the fore-top gallant cross-trees !" cried the captain, 
as he was relieved from his perilous situation, ''than 
mount a live animal again ! Nature never intended the 
critters to be backed !" 

I like the captain, because I have discovered that he 
saw and spoke with my recovered brother in the Medi- 
terranean, where he visited his ship ; and I felt with him 
in his defeat, and declined to ride. 

How necessary it is that we should behold men in their 
proper position and pursuits, in order to know and give 
them due honor ! Out of them they are often ridiculous, 
helpless, and ignorant. Here is a man who could battle 
with a storm on the ocean, and ride upon the wings of 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 149 

the hurricane, its master ! who would unerringly guide a 
mighty ship across the pathless waste of waters, and 
who, by his skill, had belted the round earth; whose 
courageous eye had met fearful perils without quailing, 
and whose manly voice had given courage and rekindled 
hope in the sinking bosom of the timid — here was this 
man, on land, in unfamiliar scenes, surpassed and laughed 
at by the least, ragged, black urchin that can bestride a 
wild colt. 

Yours respectfully, 

Kate. 



150 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 



LETTER XIX. 



Deae Mr. 



You will remember that I promised to write a tale, 
or rather to make the attempt. I have written one, and 
will send it to you for your decision. I hope you will 
be very severe with it, and reject it at once, if it is 
wanting in the points that go to make up a ^'thrilling 
story." Do not let any consideration for my vanity 
(what woman is without vanity, especially one who writes 
for printers?) prevent you from judging and condemning 
impartially ; for candor on your side may save me on 
my side from many a foolish perpetration in the literary 
way hereafter. If editors would show more courage and 
candor, there would be fewer scribblers, and more ster- 
ling writers. So, if they complain that periodical lite- 
rature is at a low ebb, they ought to blame their own 
indolent criticisms, and not fasten the guilt upon poor 
literateurs, who only live upon the nod of the editorial 
tribunal. It depends wholly on you editors, sir, whe- 
ther our manuscript sees print or lights candles. You 
will now understand, Mr. — ' — , that I am honest in 
wishing you to be so ; for if you, in the goodness of 
your heart, and because "I am a lady," publish my 
story, and it is a poor one, I shall write nothing else 
but just such poor talcs all my life ! There is my fore- 
linger up Avith the caution. Do you know that Isabel 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 151 

has a very neat talent for vrriting ? I have some of her 
MSS. which woukl delight you, and if you will never tell, 
I will send you some of it, but you must not publish it 
for the world, if you like it never so much, for it is a 
" dead secret." 

I have a beautiful story to tell you of Isabel. A few 

days since she went to C , twenty miles distant, in 

the stage. Among the passengers was a white-headed, 
poorly-clad man, with his arm in a sling, and lame from 
a bullet in his knee. He was pale, and seemed to suffer, 
yet was cheerful, and related to her deeply thrilling 
stories of his war scenes in Mexico, where he received 
the wounds which now disabled him. He had been for 
some months in a hospital, at New Orleans, and was now 
just returning to his family, after two years' absence, and 
moneyless. At the inn, at Columbia, he alighted with 
difficulty, and appeared so ill that Isabel told the land- 
lord that if he Vfould send for a physician, and have him 
well attended to, she would be responsible. Isabel was 
then driven to the elegant residence to which she was 
going on a visit. After tea, she took a bundle of com- 
forts, and in her friend's carriage drove to the inn, 
sought out the old soldier, who was very sick in bed, 
bathed his temples, and even assisted the doctor in ban- 
daging his arm. She remained nursing him two hours, 
and then left money to hire an attendant. After an 
illness of a week, every day of which saw Isabel at his 
bedside, the old white-headed soldier recovered so as to 
pursue his journey, his expenses paid from the purse 
of this benevolent and generous girl, who is as good as 
she is brave and beautiful. How few girls of seventeen 
would have thought a second time of the old soldier 



152 THE SUNNY south; or, 

after leaving him at the inn ! When Isabel was asked 
by a fashionable friend, "how she could do so?" she an- 
swered like a true Tennessee girl, " Soldiers fight the bat- 
tles of our country, and the least we can do is to cherish 
them in their helplessness, and bind up their Avounds. 
Every true American woman, who loves her country and 
the defenders of its glory and honor, would have done as 
I did." 

Her father heard this spirited yet modest repl}^, and 
taking her in his arms, he kissed her on both cheeks, 
and smiling with pride called her a " true soldier's 
daughter. ' ' 

A letter came this morning from the old man, to Isabel, 
and every line is glowing with praise of her, and warm 
with grateful words — though some of them are spelled 
wrong. But the heart has little heed of orthography. 
I know a lady who always slips in her spelling, when 
she writes a letter under any deep emotion. I do not go 
so far as a certain matter of fact, but warm hearted 
doctor, whose early education had not been done full 
justice to, whose maxim was " correct spelling and a cool 
head go together ; but a warm heart don't stop to pick 
letters." If the old soldier had not written so heartily, 
therefore, it is very likely, we see, that his orthography 
might have been less erratic. 

You recollect that I alluded to a Bengal tiger, in my 
last. I have quite an incident to relate of which he was 
{he hero, and I one of the heroines, alas ! a poor heroine 
you will say when you hear the story. 

Three days ago, the colonel, Isabel, and I, were invited 
to spend the day and dine at the plantation of Mr. Henry 
Elliott, the gentleman who is husband to our riding sea- 



THE SOUTHEENER AT HOME. 153 

captain's sister. After half an hour's delightful drive in 
the carriage, along a picturesque road, with a brawling 
brook on one side, running at even pace with the horses, 
and woods and rocks overhanscing; on the other, we 

CD O ' 

reached the tasteful, Eno-lish-lookino; mansion which was 
to terminate our drive. 

After dinner, while Isabel was standing by a marble 
table, looking over a superb copy of Boydell's Shaks- 
peare, by her side, Harry Elliott, a handsome young 
collegian, at home on vacation, admiring her rather than 
the pictures to which she was drawing his attention, and 
while I was seated in a lounge, reading Simms' last novel 
to Mrs. Elliott; and the colonel, and "the captain," and 
our host were smoking their cigars on the front portico, 
suddenly, with a bound as noiseless as that of a cat, the 
Bengal tiger entered through an open window, and 
pounced into the drawing room. Mrs. Elliott sprung to 
her feet, and pointed in speechless horror at the terrible 
and beautiful creature, as it stood for a moment where 
it touched the soft carpet, and gazed slowly and fear- 
lessly around as if selecting its victim from one of us. 
Isabel and her young friend had not yet seen him, their 
backs being towards the window. As for poor me, I sat 
like a statue, motionless and without power of motion. 
The blood froze in my veins ! I caught the glittering 
eyes of the tiger, and, for an instant, was fascinated ; 
and I do not know, if he had not turned away his look 
with dignified contempt, that I should not have risen up 
and advanced irresistibly, like a charmed bird towards 
the serpent, lie moved a step, crouching. I looked at 
Mrs. Elliott. I saw courage coming into her eyes, and 
she said to me, whispering, " If I catch his eye, I can 



154 THE SUNNY south; or, 

detain and cower him." But ere she could catch it, the 
tiger advanced three fearful bounds, and then Isabel, for 
the first time, beheld him ! Harry Elliott no sooner 
saw him, than he laid one hand on the wrist of Isabel, 
who seemed to gaze more with wonder than with fear 
upon the mottled Bengalese, and pointed with the 
other to the piano. 

" To the piano, Isabel ! Play, quickly ! Music, or 
he will do mischief — music, quickly !" 

The tiger now slowly sunk down couchant upon the 
carpet, and I could see him unsheath his curved white 
claws, and his eyes burned as if fires were kindled in 
their orbs. He seemed about to spring upon Henry, 
who fixed his gaze resolutely upon him with a courage I 
could not but admire, terrified as I was at such a draw- 
ing-room companion. My fears were not lessened by the 
recollection, which just then came upon me, that I had 
been told that day as one of the feats of the '' captain's 
pet" that he would snap ofi" a cat's head at a bite, and 
make nothing of it. I always knew my head was small, 
and I felt that it w^as now smaller than ever. The hor- 
rid creature gaped all at once, as if to increase my 
apprehensions, and I was now certain he would make as 
sure of my head as a guillotine would do it. 

Isabel glided backward, pale as snow, and as cold, — 
glided backward, step by step, so as not to seem to re- 
treat, and reached the piano. Running her icy, cold 
fingers over the keys in a fearfully brilliant prelude, she 
commenced a superb cavalry march, — a new Hungarian 
piece — with a world of war music in it. The tiger, as 
soon as she began to play, rose from his crouching atti- 
tude, and moved with a sedate step to the piano, and 



THE SOUTHERNEll AT HOME. 155 

took his stand by Isabel, and so near that her snowy 
arm, as she reached to the distant keys, would nearly 
touch his glossy shoulder. We were as still as death! 
We began to have faith in the music, seeing that he no- 
ticed it in so marked a manner, for he stood as if listen- 
ing, charmed. 

White as a Medician statue, yet Isabel played on. I 
expected each instant to see her fall from the music 
stool, or pause in pure terror, when I felt confident the 
fangs of the terrible creature would be buried in her 
bosom. Yet we dared not give the alarm! The voices 
of the three gentlemen could be heard on the gallery, yet 
we feared to call for aid lest we should draw the tiger to 
spring upon us. So silent, and nearly dead with awful 
fear, we waited the issue, trusting to Providence, or the 
music, for a diversion in our favor. 

Henry Elliott, in the meanwhile, leaving Isabel play- 
ing, stole out of the room, unseen by the tiger, and 
reaching the portico, made known to the gentlemen, in 
scarcely articulate words, the state of affairs in the 
drawing room. Mr. Elliott would have run for his rifle, 
and the colonel was calling for pistols, when the captain, 
motioning for them both to preserve silence, hastened to 
the scene of danger. When I saw him enter I felt inex- 
pressibly relieved, for I believed in him that he could 
help us. He moved noiselessly across the room, and 
coming round at the end of the piano, he faced the 
animal, and bending his glance upon him, he caught the 
glittering eye of the tiger full with his own ! The effect 
of his fixed and commanding gaze upon him was won- 
derful. The monster gradually dropped his body upon 
his haunches, and sank quietly into an attitude of sub- 



156 THE SUNNY south; or, 

mission at Isabel's feet. The captain then placed himself 
at a bound between her and the animal, and grasping 
him by his jaw, he spoke to him in a tone so absolute 
and bold, that he rose and suffered himself to be led out 
of the room like a hound, and locked up in his cage in 
the poultry yard. He had no sooner disappeared than 
Isabel, who had not ceased to play, dropped to the floor, 
but half-arrested in her fall by her father's embracing 
arm. Mrs. Elliott fainted outright. As for myself, I 
did nothing but cry for half an hour, I was so happy we 
had all escaped so well. Even the courageous Harry's 
voice trembled two hours afterwards when he was con- 
gratulating me on my escape. 

And was it not an escape, Mr. ? To be called 

upon by a gentleman tiger, and only saved from being 
eaten up by him by treating his lordship with music. It 
appeared, on inquiry, that the captain had let his '' pet" 
out for air, and tied him to a chestnut tree that stands 
in the centre of the yard, from which freeing himself, 
he had taken the liberty of bounding into the parlor, 
through the window which opens directly upon the lawn. 

You may be sure, we, and Mrs. Elliott in particular, 
gave the captain a good rating for bringing such a pet 
into a peaceable neighborhood, frightening young ladies 
out of their senses. Mrs. Elliott roundly informed her 
brother that the monster must be shot, or she should not 
sleep a wink all night for thinking he might get into the 
bed-room. 

The captain, w4io had been terribly alarmed at our 
perilous situations, promised he should be shot, but said 
he could not have the heart to be the death of his old 
friend. It was decided that the negro driver of the 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 157 

estate should kill him, but the black objected from some 
superstitious feeling, when Harry Elliott proposed that 
he should be turned loose in the forest and hunted down ! 
This proposition, so promising of a new kind of sport in 
the way of Western hunting, was warmly accepted, and 
would, no doubt, have been carried out, if some one had 
not started the objection that he might not be easily shot 
in the chase, and if left to roam the park, might do some 
fatal mischief Whereupon, Mr. Elliott went out and 
shot the handsome, wild brute through the head, with a 
rifle, at five paces. The captain would not see the deed 
done, and remaining in the house, jammed his fingers in 
his ears, to shut out the report of the gun that sealed the 
fate of his friend. The poor tiger died instantly, and 
we all went out to look at him as he lay on the green 
grass, now quite harmless, yet looking strong and terrible 
in death. He was a beautiful fellow, with the glossiest, 
silkiest hide, barred and spotted brown and black. The 
captain says it shall be made into housings for Isabel's 
saddle and mine. Moreover, he has given me two 
monkeys and a superb bird of paradise, his sister, Mrs. 
Elliott, having been made so nervous by the late tiger 
adventure, pointedly refusing to have any more of the 
outlandish citizens of earth or air on her premises. Two 

monkeys, Mr. ! And merry, ugly, little men they 

are, wrinkled as a negro a hundred years old, and mis- 
chievous as two imps satanic. They are both with chains 
round their bodies, fastened one at one pillar and another 
at another pillar of the gallery, so that they can run up 
and down at pleasure, and all the little "miniature 
humans" do, is to take their pleasure. 

They have done nothing all day but eat nuts and cakes, 



158 THE SUNNY south; or, 

mow and chat together, and make faces at the negroes. 
The old slaves seem to look upon them with an evil eye 
and a spice of fear. Our okl African says they are 
"Goobah — no good — hab old one in 'em!" The young 
fry among the blacks — the little niggers — go mad with 
delight at witnessing their pranks, wonder at their having 
tails, and seem to regard them as in some sort cousin- 
germans of their own race, mysteriously tailed, an addi- 
tion which they evidently look upon with envy. My 
magnificent bird of paradise has a disagreeable voice, 
like a creaking cart wheel, and yet his plumage is splendid 
beyond description ! With all his prismatic glory, the 
little brown mocking-bird that sings under my window 
half the night long, by moonlight, is worth a score of 
them. The eye soon wearies with the monotony of 
beauty, but the ear never with the harmony of sound. 

Yours respectfully, 

Kate. 



TTIE SOITTIIEIINER AT HOME. 159 



LETTER XX. 



Dear Mr. : 

Did you ever go a fishing ? If you have not, I ad- 
vise you to buy a rod and line, and start brookward on 
such an adventure; if you have been, you will know 
how to appreciate my happiness yesterday, when I tell 
you that I spent it in fishing ! Early in the morning my 
Afric maid, Eda, stole softly by my bedside, and waking 
me gently, as if half afraid she should wake me, reminded 
me that "we were all to go fishing to-day." I was soon 
dressed in my stout pongee habit, which I wear when I 
go into the forests, and which just fits my figure. Eda 
brought me a broad-brimmed leghorn, which I put on, 
with the brim flapping over my eyes, and shading me 
like an umbrella, — a sort of man's hat, which the 
colonel's care for our "fair complexions" had provided 
for both Bel and me. I also wore a pair of masculine 

boots; real Wellingtons, Mr. , but made of the 

softest calf-skin, and setting to the foot like a glove. 
The high heels added full an inch and a half to my sta- 
ture, whereat I was not a little vain. Upon descending 
to the hall, I found Isabel all ready, in man's hat and 
boots, and a jockey looking tunic of green cloth, elegantly 
embroidered over the bust, to which it Avas charmingly 
confined by a broad, glazed, black belt, "clipping the 
slender waist," and secured by a silver buckle, Her 



IGO THE suxNY south; or, 

small feet looked perfectly bewitching in Jier huzzar-like 
boots, and she wore her sombrero with such a dashing, 
don't-I-look-like-a-very-pretty-boy air, a little tipped 
over her left ear, that, with her fine Spanish eyes and 
expressive face, she looked bewitching enough to fall in 
love with. 

How is it, good Mr. , that pretty girls always 

become additionally attractive in masculine costume? A 
woman never looks so young as in her riding costume, 
and for the reason that it is partly copied from the dress 
of the other sex. And have you never been struck with 
the youthful look a boy's hat, worn upon the side of the 
head of a woman of thirty years old imparts to her, giv- 
ing to her face the juvenility of a handsome lad of six- 
teen? Solve me this mj^'stery, sir Editor, for editors 
are, of course, supposed to be able to solve everything ! 

The colonel was in his brown linen hunting coat, with 
six pockets therein and thereabouts. Having compli- 
mented us upon our good looks and becoming costmne, 
he escorted us to the room, where a nice hot breakfast was 
awaiting us. After a hearty meal, partaken of in high, 
good spirits, we prepared to mount our ponies. Two 
servants were already in attendance upon the gallery; 
one of them with long rods, for each of us, full twenty 
feet in length, with hair lines neatly affixed, and boxes 
of bait — writhing ground worms ! The other was laden 
with a basket of provisions, nicely covered with a snow- 
white napkin, in spite of w^hich, peeped out the red-waxed 
neck of a claret bottle, and also there was just visible 
the wire-tied cork of a champagne bottle ! But don't tell 

the temperance people, Mr. ! You know, or if you 

don't know, you know noAv, that nobody can go fishing 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 161 

Without such mystic appurtenances in the dinner-basket 

at least in these parts. All being a-saddle, and in high 
pulse, we started on our expedition to war against the 
innocent fishes. We proceeded in the following order. 
First, astride a half-broken colt, as shaggy as a bear, 
rode a young negro urchin in a torn straw hat, and with 
naked feet. He was pioneer to open the several gates 
that lay in our road across the plantation. Next rode 
the colonel, smoking a cigar, and gaily talking wdth Isa- 
bel and myself upon the probability of our being joined 
by the "tiger captain" and young Harry Elliott at the 
Seven Oaks, and questioning whether the former could 
be prevailed upon to mount a horse! Behind us came 
the gray-headed servant who carried the basket and bait, 
mounted upon a horse as venerable as himself, and 
whose ribbed sides he ceaselessly thumped with his two 
heels, keeping time thereat with every step made by his 
Rozinante. He was followed by black John, so called 
to distinguish him from another John on the estate, who 
is not quite so dead a black as the "black John." He 
rode a sober, long-eared mule, and carried the slender 
fishing rods on his shoulder, which as he trotted, bent 
with the motion like whale-bone. The mule had an odd 
fashion of throwing out his left hind leg at every third 
step, which created a rolling motion to his rider, that 
was infinitely ludicrous. 

What a merry ride we all had! The colonel sang, 
and his manly voice made the old woods ring again. 
Isabel laughed to liste^ to the laughing echo, and I 
shouted! The Africans -^^ere delighted in our delight, 
and laughed after their fashion, and the little ragamuffin 
t'eter, oiu' gate opener, who alwavs takes liberties, and 
11 



162 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

is notably sfincy, whooped and turned somersets on Ms 
pony's back from excess of animal spirits. 

Three miles from the house we crossed the turnpike 
road which leads to Nashville. A stage coach was going 
by at the time, and the passengers looked at us with 
hard curiosity, and seemed to be amused at the appear- 
ance of our motley cavalcade, the rear of which I ought 
to have said was brought up by three dogs, one of whom 
was a majestic full-blooded Newfoundland. Not far be- 
hind the stage, came a handsome traveling carriage, from 
the window of which a gentleman hailed the colonel. As 

we rode up he was presented to us as a General P , 

one of the most distinguished officers whose valor in 
Mexico elevated the military glory of our Republic. 
After some conversation we separated, he to drive on to 
his princely estate, a few leagues southward, we to enter 
the forests and wind our way to the stream. Half a 
mile from the pike we came to the Seven Oaks, a noble 
group of forest trees standing by themselves in an open 
area, where several woodland roads meet. AYe had hardly 
reached it when the colonel shouted — 

"Here they come! Voild the captain." 

Looking in the direction he indicated, we beheld Henry 
Elliott riding by the side of an old doctor's sulky, in 
which was harnessed, a tall, long-bodied steed, which as 
it drew nearer, proved to be stone-blind. At first we 
could not distinguish whom the ark-like vehicle contained, 
but a loud shout to us like Neptune hailing a war-ship in 
a high wind, left us in no doubt as to the personality of 
the occupant. Harry, mounted on a superb hunter, and 
dressed with picturesque effect, but without foppishness, 
which he is too handsome and sensible to be guilty of, on 



THE SOUTITERXF.R AT HOME. 163 

discovering us left Ins companion and galloped forward 
to join us. How superbly he rode ! yet "with the ease 
and natural attitude of a Comanche chief. He was 
Iau2;hin2: as he came on, and well might he lauo;h. 

The sulky w*as shrieking in anguish at every revolu- 
tion of its rattling wheels ; the horse reared behind and 
pitched before with a double-jointed, spasmodic locomotion, 
that shook the captain from his seat within at every jerk. 
The vehicle, the horse, the sulky, and the wheels had 
each a several and independent motion of progression, 
which four being combined, produced a compound move- 
ment of the whole, unlike any thing on the earth, or un- 
der the earth, or in the sea. We all shouted! The 
captain reached us and then tried to stop his headway; 
but the ancient horse had an iron jaw calloused by long 
use, that no bit would twist or hart, and it was plainly 
apparent that, once under weigh, and propelled by the 
complex motions of the entire machinery, he could not 
stop if he would. 

"'Vast heaving ahead! Luff! — Luff you beast!" 
shouted the captain, with stentorian energy, as he was 
passing us, pulling at the reins. "This land craft is the 
crankiest clipper I ever g-g-got a-a-bo-ar-d-d of!" cried 
he, the last words being jolted out of him by one of 
the four motions. "'Vast there and heave to! What 
an infer-fer-na-nal sea is running! — Co-co-co-co-col-on- 
n-el, heave us a rope! Bear a hand here, some of you 
darkies, or I shall soon be hull down and out o' sight to 
leeward !" 

The colonel rode ahead of the blind and still des- 
perately-plunging-forward animal, and had no sooner 



164 THE SUNNY south; or, 

touched his head lightly with his whip than he stood 
stock still 

"Thank'ee, colonel, thank'ee," said the old seaman, 
as he scrambled over the wheel to the ground; ''that 
craft is the hardest thing I ever steered ! Catch me 
aboard of one of your land craft again, if I can help it ! 
You see this mad-cap nephew of mine wanted to tempt 
me to ride a horse; but I have had enough of that. 
Don't laugh, girls, — but it is true. So, cruising about 
the stables, I run athwart this old lugger, stowed high 
and dry, and covered with dust and cobwebs. Elliott 
said it had belonged to a doctor who once lived at the 
plantation, and it was now condemned as unseaworthy. 
But so long as it didn't leak, and the spars were sound, 
I didn't care. So I had her hauled out into the stream, 
her old rigging overhauled, and this blind horse o' my 
own choosing, out of a score o' faster and better ones to 
tow it along. And here you see me, with my innards 
shook out, because I forgot to put ballast aboard to keep 
her trim ; and then, for yaAving wide before the wind, I 
never saw the equal of that blind beast ; and as for short- 
ening sail or coming-to off port, he doesn't know what 
that means." 

We all enjoyed the captain's professional account of 
his voyage, and, as the stream was yet a mile off, we set 
forward, the captain once more aboard his land craft, but 
with the precaution of having one of the negro men lead 
the blind horse along, with his hand on his head-stall. 
Relieved ''by this towing," as he termed it, from the 
direct command of the vessel, the captain lighted a 
cigar, lolled along and smoked as well as he could for 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 165 

the rougli sea produced by the resumption of the quadru- 
plex motion of the whole apparatus. 

We at length reached the creek, though Isabel and 
Harry were somehow loiterers, and always were, someJioiv, 
on such occasions, and did not come up till we had 
alighted. What a delightful spot it was where we stopped 
to prepare for our sport ! Mighty trees overshadowing 
us, a limpid stream eighty feet wide at our feet, its clear 
waters sparkling over snowy sands, and gurgling and 
rushing around and between gray mossy rocks lying in 
its bed. 

Higher up was a waterfall, with a constant murmur, 
and to the left of us the bank receded, leaving a dark, 
deep pool, in the depths of which, the darting fish, in 
their silvery armor, gleamed like meteors in a lower 
sky. Just where we alighted was a verdant carpet of 
soft thick grass, with three or four fine old rocks scat- 
tered over it like granite lounges, which use we made 
of three of them ; the fourth having a shape somewhat 
tabular, being converted by us into a table for our pic- 
nic dinner. Altogether, the place was romantic, secluded, 
and still, and would have delighted dear good Izaak Wal- 
ton, whose shade we invoked as we prepared our lines 
for the sport ! Sport ! ah, poor Pisces ! what was to 
be sport to us, was death to you ! But so goes life, 

Mr. ; one half of God's creatures, both brute and 

intelligent, pursue their pleasure at the expense of the 
other half. 

The tiger-captain attached himself assiduously to me 
for the day, no doubt seeing that Isabel was well provided 
for in young Elliott's devoted attentions, and taking pity 
upon a lonely demoiselle. He taught mc how to cut 



166 THE SUNNY south; or, 

bullets half through, and affix them to the line for sinkers ; 
he gave me a lesson in making and fitting a quilled cork ; 
initiated me into the mysteries of "bending on a hook," 
which good Mrs. Partington could do, as it is done by 
knitting stitches upon the shaft, as one would upon a 
needle ; and he gave me a horrid lesson in the art of 
scientifically putting a worm upon the hook. The squirmy 
creatures, how they did curl about my fingers. ! yet I was 
afraid to incur the captain's contempt by even shrieking 
or throwing them from me. But isn't it a cruel murder, 
sir, to cut in three sections a living worm, and then 
thread longitudinally your barbed hook with one of the 
soft, cold, twisting pieces ? But a lady who goes a fish- 
ing with a sea-captain who has tigers for pets, must have 
no nerves. I found the captain an admirable instructor. 
He showed me where to find the deep pools, and how to 
cast my line thirty feet outwardly at a sweep, without 
bungling or lodging it in the branches overhead. He 
instructed me how to watch the little green and red 
painted cork, and how to spring the line when it bobbed 
under — in a word, he proved a valuable comrade for a 
tyro in fishing like me, and an unexceptionable beau, 
except when I once let a large trout drag my hook, line, 
pole, and all out of my grasp, and dart away with it 
down the stream like a rocket, when he " made a great 
swear," as I heard an Indian say of another great per- 
sonage. With this nautical exception, the tiger-captain 
was a delightful companion on a fishing picnic. 

After three or four hours of various successes, during 
which some eighty -five fish were caught by the whole 
party, negroes included, one of the servants announced, 
'"Pic-nic ready, Massas and Misseses !" 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 167 

As the captain and I, after winding np our lines, has- 
tened to the spot, I passed the little negro Pete squatted 
on a rock, fishing, holding a huge stick for a pole, with 
twine for line, and, for bait-box, the caj^tain said that he 
made use of his enormous mouth, which he kept full of 
live worms ready for use ! Oh, shocking, Peter ! 

It took some time to find Isabel and Harry, who, at 
length, made their appearance from up the stream, but 
with only three fish between them. I suspect they passed 
their time so pleasantly in each other's society, that they 
thought little of the little fishes. The captain rallied 
them on their ill luck, and made them both blush. We 
had a capital feast under the trees, with the grass for 
our seats, and a rock for our table. I placed a chance 
copy of the Picayune before me for a table-cloth, and 
thus, reading and eating, I enjoyed '' a feast of rea- 
son," as well as a more substantial one. We had ham, 
sandwiches, pickles, cold-chicken, cold broiled pigeons, 
salad, pic-nic crackers, Scotch ale, champagne, and 
claret. The two negro men waited on us with the pre- 
cision and etiquette of the dining-room. Our horses, and 
ponies, and mules, picturesquely tethered around us, 
cropped the grass, or stood, meditating, doubtless, upon 
our conduct, our laughter, our toasts, our uproarious be- 
haviour, so in contrast with thei?' sedate gravity, which 
never departs from its propriety. Especially the cap- 
tain's blind horse looked melancholy and lonely, tied to 
the wheel of the sulky, with a basket of corn hanging 
at the end of his venerable nose. At every Borean 
burst of quarter-deck laughter from the captain, he 
would crop his overgrown ears, and roll his white, fishy- 
looking eyes about as if in bodily apprehension. 



168 THE SUNNY south; or, 

We toasted, in lady-like sips of the iced wine, the 
President, Henry Clay, Daniel Webster, and Jenny Lind, 
and, in silence, drank to the memory of the warrior-sage 
of the Hermitage, who sleeps not many hours' ride from 
where we were. It would be difficult to impress persons 
out of Tennessee with the veneration with which the 
green memory of the Hero of New Orleans is held by all 
Tennesseans. Through the rolling ages, his secluded 
tomb will be the fane of pilgrimage for the sons of this 
state. We intend shortly to pay a second visit to the 
Hermitage, of which I will give you an account after- 
wards. 

After our pic-nic dinner was over, the table-rock was 

vacated to the servants, and the gentlemen laid at length 

on the grassy bank, smoked, and entertained us with 

stories. 

Kate. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. IGO 



LETTER XXI. 

I HAVE had a mind to make this a literary "Needle" 
and talk book ; for I have lately been reading so many 
delightful authors, that, like the busy bee, the wings of 
my soul are laden with their sweets, and I must, per 
force, make honey. The last work I have laid down, is 
"Emerson's Representative Men." How suggestive is 
this book! How it teems with thought, and food for 
thought! How deep he goes down into the being of 
man, and how he walks among the stars ! What a faculty 
he has for putting mind into type ! He touches nothing 
that he does not find a kernel in it, where most other 
writers and thinkers see only a husk. He beholds with 
the eye of the poet, and the contemplation of the sage, 
the "splendor of meaning" that plays over the visible 
world, and by its light, he looks down, down into the 
human heart, and then tells us with terrible strength of 
word, all he discovers there! We tremble before the 
man w^ho thus boldly drops his plumb-line into the abyss 
of our being, and reports to us its depth. 

Mr. Emerson has a great mind. Grave errors of 
theory he has, but new and hitherto untold truths so 
burn in his pages, that his discrepancies are lost in their 
light. His sentences are a "carved thought," every one 
of them. He uses words for the frame Avork of his pre- 
cious thoughts with the economy of a jeweler, his gold 



170 THE SUNNY south; or, 

in setting precious stones. Every page is an intellec- 
tual pabulum on which the intellect of a man may be 
nourished. He sets you thinking, and thinking, and 
thinking ! He has the rare talent of expressing to the 
eye the deep and unbroken musings of the spirit of man 
about God, about Nature, about the mystery of the past, 
the awe of the future, the riddle of life, the infinitude of 
the Universe — musings that all indulge, but never impart 
the secret of what they think. Mr. Emerson puts such 
twilight and star-light thoughts into shape, and startles 
us at recognizing them, as much as if we had seen our 
own ghosts rising from the misty emptiness of space! 
We all love to discover that our own speculations upon 
the mysteries that surround us, have been the specula- 
tions of another mind ; and if that other mind will lead 
us farther than we have gone, we follow with a charmed 
awe, confident in his pilotage, though he lead us into the 
unfathomable ! 

Some of Mr. Emerson's propositions and opinions 
savour of Swedenborg, of Grecian philosophy, of Jewish 
skepticism, of German transcendentalism, neither of 
which by itself complete, yet in combination they pro- 
duce a synthetic whole, that is the just representative of 
the modern mind of philosophy. If Mr. Emerson could 
only combine a fifth element in his circle, the humble 
faith of the New Testament, his philosophy w^ould be in- 
destructible. How so great a mind can approach so 
near the Cross and not see it, and be dazzled by its 
glory, is to me a cause of the profoundest marvel. Aside 
from this radical defect in his philosophy, his book is 
laden with the richest intellectual ore which the wise 
searcher will gather, and know how to free from the 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 171 

alloy. Did Mr. Emerson live in the days of Plato, lie 
would have founded an Academy of Philosophy, to which 
the youth of that classic land would have flocked to learn 
wisdom! Why do not our learned and wise men now 
become teachers like the old philosophers ? Such a 
man as Emerson might crowd his rural retirement with 
intellectual young men, and establish a school of thought, 
that would produce a positive effect upon the age. 

But rather let our able divines become such teachers 
in Christian Philosophy, such men as — but I will not 
give the names that come to my pen, lest it should seem 
invidious ; if these able doctors of divinity would open 
their homes, they would be filled with disciples. If emi- 
nent retired physicians would receive young men as 
discipuli, how many would avail themselves' of the privi- 
lege ! If retired lawyers and statesmen would thus be- 
come teachers of legal and political philosophy, how 
many talented youths of our land would become rivals 
for these inestimable advantages ! Suppose it were un- 
derstood that Henry Clay (God bless him) or Daniel 
Webster (all honor be to his mighty mind) would, the 
one at Ashland, the other at Marshfield, receive a limited 
number of disciples, to instruct them in "the things of 
their wisdom," what price would be counted by ambitious 
young Americans, if they could attain to the honor of 
sitting at their feet? Schools of politics are needed in 
our country, where statesmen should be graduated ! 

Dear me ! Mr. , how boldly I am making my pen 

write! Only a young woman, perhaps I ought not to 
touch upon such weighty matters; but please permit me 
to suggest that there ought to be a Diplomatic College 
at Washington, where our Foreign Ministers, Charges, 



172 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

&c., should be educated, and take out diplomas, certify- 
ing their qualifications to hold those important positions, 
by the incumbents of Avhich our country is judged by all 
nations. The requisites should be a thorough knowledge 
of international law, of the elementary principles of our 
Federal Constitution, and those of the thirty States, of 
the history, products, resources, and commerce of the 
country, the history of political parties, and the internal 
operation of our domestic institutions. Lastly, as a 
sine qua non, they should write and speak French 
fluently, the ignorance of which in nearly all our foreign 
ministers renders them incompetent, and often ridicu- 
lous. 

There, Mr. , I've done on this hobby. 

Another book I have been reading is Dickens' ^' Cop- 
perfield." I do not read novels often, nor do I read 
them ever for the story or plot, but for the thoughts 
which the writer may string upon it. Dickens' stories 
seldom have any but the most indifferent plots. He 
never invents surprises, but writes you a story as trans- 
parent as gossamer. Nobody looks for plots in this 
charming writer, but for his witty sparklings, his quiet 
humor, his inimitable sketches of character, his pic- 
tures of every-day people, whom we afterwards do not 
so much seem to have read about as to have known. 
This deficiency of plot, which characterizes Dickens' 
stories, and their wealth of original ideas, is what ren- 
ders young people somewhat indifferent to reading them, 
and more mature heads fond of them. Like Emerson, 
he is an analyzer, but Emerson builds theories on what 
he discovers, while Dickens works his discoveries into 
practical life. Like Emerson, in his knowledge of the 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 173 

springs of our being, Dickens is a philosopher, but 
rather of the heart than of the intellect. Emerson 
will unlock the abyss and unveil to us the foundations 
of the universe, and even the spirit-world beyond. Dic- 
kens will take us to these beings, and make us know 
and love them. Emerson would explain the temple ; 
Dickens would present to you the worshipers, maid and 
and mother, child and patriarch, the poor widow with 
her mite, and the haughty Pharisee. Emerson's pen 
records discoveries in the world of thoughts ; Dickens' 
pen records experiences in the world of hearts. 

I have heard of the death of Fanny Osgood w^ith 
much and deep sorrow. She w^as a bright spirit, with 
a noble nature and^ taste cultivated in the highest de- 
gree. I once met her, and the remembrance of that 
interview, short as it was, wall ever be fresh ; my only 
regret was the feeling that I had not known her inti- 
mately. If she had lived, for she has fled the earth 
young, she would have done great deeds with her pen. 
But God be thanked, there is a world of reunion, where 
death will no more intrude his severing scythe, where 
the poet's immortal mind shall have scope measurable 
with its immortality. 

Kate. 



174 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 



LETTER XXII. 

After the literary letter whicli I sent you last 
month, you will no doubt feel particularly grateful to 
my learning, if it will dispense with such lofty writing 
in future, and give you something more in the descrip- 
tive and gossip way. It isn't every day I get my head 
crammed with ''book," but when I do, it must be emp- 
tied ; for, as you have before been informed by me, my 
head is a very little one, and won't hold a whole library. 
Having relieved its fulness in my last, I now begin per- 
fectly in vacuo (this Latin my brother taught me) to 
write you, solemnly averring to you that I havn't read 
a book through for a month. This epistle will, there- 
fore, be about what 1 have seen, and of that of which I 
have been '•' a part." 

Last week it was resolved, after several days of doubt- 
in o- and of deliberation, that we would all go and spend 
a couple of weeks at Beaver Dam Springs, in this state, 
not that Ave were any of us invalids, but as all our neigh 
bors had gone packing either to the North or some of 
the watering-places, we had to imitate them, in self-de- 
fence, to get rid of the loneliness of the neighborhood. 
One morning, for instance, we would take a gallop over 
to Kenton Hall, only to be told that " Massa, and Missus, 
and all de young people had gone to de Nort'." Or, in 
the evening we would canter to Bell Park, to find every 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 175 

soul away, and the noble balls in cbarge of an African 
housekeeper. In a word, the country was deserted, and 
as one might as well be out of the world as out of the 
fashion thereof, the order w^as at length given for our 
departure also. 

It seemed to me a great pity to quit the elegant man- 
sion, and beautiful grounds, and sweet retirement of 
Overton Park, for unknown inconveniences at some un- 
comfortable and crowded watering-place, but as Isabel 
insisted that there would be a great many fine beaux 
there, and dancing, and all that, I was reconciled to the 
change ; for, though I don't care much about beaux till 
they have got a little gray, and therefore a little wisdom 
withal, and seldom dance except with the colonel, or the 
tiger captain, at a parlor reunion, yet I knew she would 
be very happy there, and so I turned my sighs into 
smiles for her sake, and went cheerfully to work packing. 

^1'- vdid you ever pack a trunk ? If you have not, 

and resolutely intend never to pack one, you are an en- 
viable gentleman. The great art, especially in fixing 
away for the springs, is to cram the contents of four 
large trunks and a wardrobe into one small trunk ; at 
least, this was the system Isabel and I went to work 
upon, for the colonel said, very positively, that we must 
have all baggage put into two trunks, for the traveling 
carriages wouldn't carry any more. More than once in 
our stowing processes I wished for the aid of the cotton- 
press, and believed, at last, we should have to send the 
trunk to the gin, to be placed underneath the cotton- 
bale screw, in order to consolidate the contents. But, 
as this would utterly have demolished cologne and rose- 
water bottles; ruined silks and lawns, and generally and 



176 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

miscellaneously annihilated every thing, we called in 
two stout African dames from the laundry, and, making 
them stand together upon the top, we caused two negro 
hoys to draw the straps, one at each strap, and another 
to watch the opportunity, when the women on top sprung 
up in order to make the cover go down, to turn the key 
in the lock. But the eflforts of the latter were entirely 
unsuccessful, and with the trunk only strapped and buc- 
kled by the extreme ends, we pronounced that it would 
do, no rogue would know the diiference. The next 
question was, what should we do with our hats? The 
colonel had forbidden bandboxes, and yet we must carry 
our bonnets in some way. It was in vain the colonel 
assured us we should have no need of bonnets at the 
springs. We did not know what might happen, and de- 
termined to take them. The bandbox finally was safely 
smuggled under the feet of Phillip, the driver, the ham- 
mer-cloth scarcely covering it. This important matter 
being arranged, we took an early breakfast, and set forth 
on our journey, which was to occupy us two days. 

' You should have seen our cavalcade, Mr. . Let 

me describe it to you. First and foremost rode Charles, 
the colonel's intelligent and well-dressed serving-man, 
well mounted on a serviceable traveling horse, and lead- 
ing by the bridle his master's noble battle-steed, which 
he still keeps as his favorite riding-horse. The horse is 
a large, finely-formed animal, and with his gorgeous 
Spanish saddle half covered with silver, and his plated 
bridle, half of which was massive silver-chain, he moved 
on his way, tossing his head, and stepping ofi" as if he 
" smelled the battle afar off." Next came our family 
coach, a large, Philadelphia-built carriage, as roomy as 



THE SOUTITER^'EIl AT HOME. 177 

one could wish, with drab linings, luxuriiintlj soft, broad, 
comfortable seats, that one could almost use as sofas. 
There were a dozen pockets in the sides, the two larger 
ones crammed for the occasion with books, magazines, 
and newspapers, t<^ read on the way, when we should 
tire of each other, for the most social folks, with the 
most praiseworthy loquacity, can't always talk while 
traveling. One of the others was charged with cakes, 
and another thoughtfully teemed with peaches and ap- 
ples, the foresight of the careful housekeeper, who had 
traveled with her mistress in her younger days, and 
knew how to make "white folk comfortable." A fifth, 
w^hicli was long and narrow, was neatly packed with 
cigars, to be conveniently in reach of the colonel, the 
only smoker in our party ; this care for making " white 
folks comfortable" being referable to the attention of 
Charles, who was au fait in ail things appertaining to 
his master's habits. A sixth pocket, in the front, con- 
tains a box of lucifer matches, to light the cigars with ; 
and from a seventh projected the brass top of a small 
spy-glass, with which to view distant prospects as we 
rode through the country. In each corner swung a bril- 
liant feather fan, ready for our use, and in a rack over 
Isabel's head was a silver cup with which to drink from 
the springs or running brooks. There was an additional 
contrivance to the carriage I have never seen in any 
other ; this was an arrangement by which the lower half 
of the front could be let down under the hammer-cloth, 
and so make room for an extension of the feet of an in- 
valid to recline at length ; a luxury that the indolence 
of voluptuousness, rather than the comforts of indisposi- 
tion, originated. Behind our carriage rode a little mu- 
12 



178 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

latto of fourteen, who is taken along as a pupil to initiate 
him into the mysteries of his future duties, as bodv-ser- 
vant to the colonel when Charles grows gray : he is an 
intelligent lad, and has a thirst for books that it is my 
delight to gratify, and it is amusing' to w^itness the ex- 
pansion of his large, handsome eyes at every new idea 
his little books give him. He thinks there is no one 
like Missy Kate, and says to me frequently : " When 
you get marry, Missy Kate, me w^ait on you' husband — 
me love b'long to you, Missy." 

Beyond being in the possession — the property of some- 
hody — the born slave has no idea. Like the beautiful 
daughters of Circassia, who look forward to a harem as 
the crowning honor of their sex, and the completion of 
their happiness, the Afric youths in slavery, of both 
sexes, contemplate only, as a second or rather their first 
nature, the condition of servitude: so strong are habits 
and the influence of education. The little fellow is in 
raptures with his journey and at every thing he sees, put- 
ting his smiling orange-tawny face round the corner of 
the coach to speak to me in the window, to point out to me 
something strange to his optics, but familiar enough to ours. 

In the rear of the carriage, at a sufficient distance to 
avoid our dust, and not to lend us theirs, rode on ambling 
nags two female slaves, one of them Isabel's maid, who 
attends her every where, and Edith, who has been in- 
stalled from the first, as my factotum. It was useless 
for me to say that I did not wish to take her along, that 
I could do without her. Go she must, first because I 
should need her ; secondly she wanted to go and have the 
pleasure of the trip; and thirdly, Jane, Isabel's maid, 
iiould be lonesome without her companion to gossip with; 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 179 

and servants are better contented when tliey are together. 
So I had my maid. They Avere both dressed in well-jfit- 
ting pongee riding-dresses, were mounted on side-saddles ; 
and at the horns thereof hung the neatly tied bundles that 
contained their respective wardrobes. They paced along 
side by side after us, as merry as two young black crows 
in a corn field, and made the air ring with their mirthful 
and not unmusical laughter; for musical ever are the 
voices of the dark daughters of Afric ; and I am not sur- 
prised to hear that there is a prima donna of this race 
in Paris, filling it with wonder at the richness of her 
notes. 

I can name half a score of negresses, on the estate of 
the Park, whose voices are charming, and, with cultiva- 
tion, would surprise and enchant the cultivated listener. 
/ In the rear of these two "ladies," who only cease 
their talk with each other, to switch up their nags, comes 
the coachman's boy, a fat-faced, oily, saucy-lipped son 
of Ham, black and brilliant as a newly japanned boot. 
He is the coachman's page, and boy of all work about 
the stable and horses ; and rubber-down and harnesser-up j 
the polisher of the stable plate and the waterer of the 
horses; for your true "gentleman's coachman," is a gen- 
tleman in his way, and there are the "meaner things" 
of his profession, which he leaves to the "low ambition" 
of such coarser colored clay as Dick. In a word, the 
theory of division of labor is completely carried out into 
practical working system on a southern estate with its 
hundred slaves. The carriage-driver must not only have 
his deputy ostler, but the laundress must be waited on 
by a little negress, to kindle her fires, heat her irons, 
and do every thing that the dignity of the "lady" in 



180 THE SUNNY south; or. 

question deems it " derogatoriim" for her to put licr 
hands to. The chief washer-woman has from two to four 
ebony maids, who do the grosser work while she does 
the "fancy washing." The cook must have a strapping 
negress, with eyes like anthracite, to peel and pick; a 
strapping lad, with feet like two copies of Mitchell's 
School Atlas for breadth, to chop the wood, bring water, 
and be at hand whenever he is wanted ; and two or three 
small fry to catch the poultry, turn the spit, and steal 
all they can. The gardener has his aids; the ''marm- 
nurse" hers to tote the children; the housekeeper hers; 
and all this army of juveniles are thus in full training to 
take the places, by-and-by, of those to whom they are 
appended. 

Thus every negro child is brought up (educated shall 
I say?) to one thing, and comxCS to understand that par- 
ticular branch perfectly by the time it gets to be a man 
or a woman, hence the admirable, the perfect servants, 
one always finds on a well-regulated plantation. Out 
of their particular province they know nothing — abso- 
lutely nothing ; and no judicious master ever thinks of 
exacting of them, duties out of their regular work. 
Dick, the ostler's boy, doesn't know horse-radish from a 
pumpkin-vine; and Bob, the gardener's boy, could solve 
a problem in Euclid as easily as he could place the 
harness on the carriage horses. The cook never enters 
the house, and the nurse is never seen in the kitchen ; 
the wash-woman is never put to ironing, nor the woman 
who has charge of the ironing-room ever put to washing. 
Each one rules supreme in her wash-house, her ironing- 
room, her kitchen, her nursery, her housekeeper's room ; 
and thus, none interfering with the duties of the other, 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 181 

a complete system of domesticdom is established to the 
amazing comfort and luxury of all who enjoy its advan- 
tages. 

This, however, is a digression ; but, as I am not 
writing by the rule, whatever ramblings my pen takes 
should be regarded as a regular part of my letter, as a 
deviation contemplated in the beginning. I will now re- 
turn to Dick, or Dickon as he was called "for short," as 
Charles saith. 

Dick was mounted on the same low, black, shaggy, Mex- 
ican pony I have before described, his feet dangling as if 
they were two weights to balance him, and encased with a 
pair of brogans, the bottoms of ivhich were still of that fresh 
polished leather-brown, which showed they had not yet 
touched mother earth, but were span new. Indeed, I had 
seen Dickon mount his Mexican bare-footed, and then cause 
one of his black companions to put his shoes on for him, 
in order that they might shine with newness, and as long 
as possible delight the eyes, and kindle envy in the 
bosoms of all "darkies" whom he might encounter on 
the road. In this vanity, Dickon was not peculiar, for 
the whole race are more pleased with a pair of new boots 
or shoes than any other portion of apparel. I have seen 
both men and women, in going to meeting with new Christ- 
mas-gift shoes, walk half the distance on the Virginia 
fence, in order that they might reach the "meetin' hus" 
with the bottoms of their brogans "spick and span." 
White "gemmen," I believe, think most of a new hat, 
if one might judge from the habit of "betting a hat, and 
the gentle pleasure they seem to enjoy in smoothing its 
glossy coat down with their palm or a kid glove, and 
the jealousy with which they protect it, when it is new, 



182 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

from all soiling. The new coat may sit down in a dusty 
chair without much compunctious visitings to the trem- 
bling conscience of the wearer ; but did any lady ever see 
a gentleman deposit his hat upon a table barely susceptible 

of dust ? BetAveen us, Mr. , fear of such contact with 

its immaculate ebon causes gentlemen to keep their hats 
in hand in parlor visitations, protesting, with a hypocriti- 
cal smile, if you try to deprive them of it, that it is really 
the fashion ! Bless me! If the fashion should change, 
what would be the substitute ? Tliere can be none ; for I 
have seen fine beaux use their castors as if they were pet 
kittens, stroking down and stroking down the soft fur 
with affectionate endearment, as if it Avere a baby, tap- 
ping and smoothing its glossy crown, as if it were a fan, 
with which to cool their be-whiskered faces, or a pocket 
handkerchief, to hide a temporarily missing tooth, or 
w^ine-tainted (more's the pity) exhalations of breath, 
or an escritoire to pencil a letter upon, and as a mail-bag, 
to put one in ! — as a weapon of war to drive a wasp or 
a bat out of the room, as an individual fire-screen, and 
for illustrating any ideas in conversation : as, for instance, 
I have seen a hat called (only for the sake of illustration, 

Mr. ,) a steam boiler, a new^ novel, a church, the 

Mexican general Santa Anna ; while the coal-scuttle stood 
for General Taylor, Mount Vesuvius, the tomb of Ma- 
homet, a patent coffee-mill, a newly invented horse-shoe, 
and a negro's head. It has enabled many a difiident 
gentleman to retain his self-possession, and give a use 
for his hands for a whole evening, Avho, otherwise, would 
have suffered excruciatingly from the embarrassment of 
beinc^ alone with himself. You mio;ht as well ask some 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 183 

nervous gentlemen if you should take their boots, as to 
ask them if you should " take their hats." 

It occurs to me, Mr. , that only one thing is wanted 

to perfect the drawing-room hat. This idea has been 
suggested to my mind more than once, when I have seen 
gentlemen, during a pause in the conversation, gaze ab- 
stractedly down into the recesses of their castors, as if 
they Avere trying to discover stars at noon-day in a well. 
The idea is this : That in the next issue of fashionable 
hats by your tonish artistes^ Oakford of Chestnut street, 
or Genin of Broadway, there should be elegantly inserted 
within the crown, Avhere the maker's name usually is 
found, a small mirror, encircled by the manufacturer's 
name.* Ladies have them in their fans, and the hat is 
the gentleman's fan. Such an arrangement would meet 
with favor, I have no doubt. The gentlemen at a loss 
for ideas could catch inspiration from the depth of their 
castors ; for what will inspire a person with such a flow 
of agreeable ideas as the contemplation of himself ? 

The introduction of this hat would be productive of 
the highest social benefits, and impart a charm and 
vivacity to drawing-room conversations that cannot now 
be properly estimated. Dear me ! Let us go back to 
Dickon, whom I have fairly taken for my text ; for 
what I understand by a text, is some point which gives 
the preacher a starting vantage, like the starting pole to 
the foot-racer, who, once leaving it at his back, never 
expects to behold it more. 

But we won't lose sight of Dickon, nor of his brogans. 
When we came near any dwelling, to the front of which 
any of his sooty brethren might be drawn to gaze on us, 
* This has since (1853) been done. 



184 THE SUNNY south; or, 

he would throw out his legs horizontally, in order to 
display the full glory and splendor of his pegged shoes, 
the soles of which were three-quarters of an inch in 
thickness, and the leather of which they were made, as 
thick as the hide of a rhinoceros ; yet they filled his 
dark soul with delight, and he rejoiced in them as if they 
had been as beautiful as the slippers of Cinderella. 

He led by the bridle Isabel's riding horse, the hand- 
some creature I have before described, fully caparisoned, 
and my beautiful mule, accoutred with Mexican magni- 
ficence. These accompany us in order that, when we 
are tired of the carriage, we can ride, and also for our 
convenience while at the Springs. My mule is a perfect 
beauty ! He is none of the Sancho Panza donkey race, 
blit as symmetrical as a deer, with an ankle like a hind 
of the forest, or like a fine lady's ; with hide as glossy as 
that of a mouse, ears not too large, and well cut; a 
pretty head, a soft and affectionate eye, with a little 
mischief in it, (observable only when Isabel would try to 
pass him,) and as swift as an antelope, and thirteen and 
a half hands high. It comes at my voice, and does not 
like for any one but me to be in the saddle. The value 

of this mule, Mr. , is three hundred dollars. You 

have no idea of the beauty and cost of these useful crea- 
tures in this country, and how universally they are used. 
Out of nine private carriages at the Church last Sab- 
bath, four of them were drawn by beautiful spans of 
mules. Even our own traveling carriage, which I have 
described to you, is drawn by a pair of large mules, six- 
teen hands, and which the colonel has been offered one 
thousand dollars for. It is only the rich that can afford 
the luxury of the use of these elegant animals. So 



I 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 185 

don't smile at my saddled mule, wliicli I have named 
"Jenny Lind." 

Having now introdued you to our traveling party, 

Mr. , I will in my next give you some account of 

what events took place on our journey. 

Yours, 

Kate. 

P. S. Many thanks to the kind editorial people who 
have been pleased to treat my faults as a writer so leni- 
ently, and to encourage me with such words of approba- 
tion. I will do my best to merit their esteem. 



18<3 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 



LETTER XXIII. 

Mr — : 

My Dear Sir, — -It is all up now ! Everybody knows 
i\ I The secret is out, and I am distressed beyond mea- 
sxa'vy. I wouldn't for the world it should have been 
kv^own I write these letters ; and I have done my best 
tliat it shouldn't be suspected ; and if it had not been for 
certain over-wise busy bodies, the colonel and Isabel 
would have been none the wiser ; for they never see your 
paper — I have taken nice care of that. I will tell you 
how it was, Mr. . You must know that on the even- 
ing of the day we left the Park for the Springs, we 
reached the village of Columbia, where there is a cele- 
brated Institute for Young Ladies, romantically situated 
near the town. Isabel had a friend or two there, and 
proposed to call and pay them a visit. The colonel said 
he would accompany us; and off we set on foot through 
the principal street. On the way we passed a one story 
white cottage house, with a little shaded green yard in 
front. This, the colonel told us, was the residence of 
Mr. Polk, when he w^as called to occupy the White 
House. It is wholly unpretending, and might rent for 
one hundred and fifty dollars per annum. In coming to 
Colmnbia, six miles out, we had passed a small country 
dwelling, of the humblest aspect, which we were told was 
his birth-place. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 187 

After looking a moment at the plain dwelliiio; on the 
street, and reflecting from what various positions of so- 
ciety our Presidents spring, the abode of Madam, the 
venerable mother of the late President Polk, was shown 
to me — a two story brick house, without ornament or 
grounds, and approached only by an uncomfortable look- 
ing side-walk. She is greatly beloved, and is said to be 
both an intelligent and Avitty old lady. Near her resides 
Mrs. Dr. Hays, a sister of the late President, and said 
strikingly to resemble him in talents and appearance. 

At length we came in sight of the Gothic turrets and 
Norman towers of the battlemented structure towards 
which we were directing our steps. It is truly a noble 
edifice, commandingly situated, and complete in all its 
appointments to the eye. Its color is a grayish blue. 
It is approached through imposing gate-ways, by wind- 
ing avenues that bring the visitor soon upon a green 
plateau. The entrance is spacious, and hung with pic- 
tures. AVe were ushered by a well-dressed female slave 
into a parlor on the left, handsomely furnished, but not 
a single book to be seen in it. Thii^ showed that the 
proprietors regarded books as tools in that place, and 
kept them for the sJiop — that is the study-room. The 
colonel sent up our names to the Rector ; for the Institu- 
tion, w^hich numbers three hundred pupils, is Episcopa- 
lian, and is under the charge of a clergyman of the 
Church. 

A gentleman shortly made his appearance, dressed 
with the nicest care and attention to his personal appear- 
ance. He was rather a handsome man, inclined to gen- 
teel corpulency, wore gold rimmed glasses, nankeen 
trousers, white vest, and full whiskers accurately trimmed 



188 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

to a hair. He was the heau ideal of preceptor-in-chicf 
of a large and fashionable boarding-school of young 
misses. He was the most polite man I ever saw. Lord 
Chesterfield would have embraced hira with demonstra- 
tions of enthusiasm. Yet, with all this formality of 
courteousness, which the head of a ladies' school must 
of necessity get into the habit of exercising towards all, 
his face bore the impress of a scholarly mind. I always 
note with great particularity the peculiarities of those 
who educate youth, for so much depends upon example, 
and is learned by involuntary imitation. The young 
ladies, whom Isabel had sent for, soon made their ap- 
pearance, both dressed plainly in white, and I observed 
that they both eyed me askance and curiously in a pecu- 
liar way, and then both whispered to Isabel, and then 
looked mysteriously again at me harder than before. 

At length, we rose to accompany the courteous Rector 
over the vast establishment which calls him lord. I was 
amazed at its extent, at the number of its rooms, at the 
profusion of its pictures and maps, hanging from all the 
walls, at the cr#^vd of girls, so many of them, and so 
full of the promise of future loveliness, and the perfect or- 
der and system which prevailed throughout. But if these 
gratified me, I did not a little marvel at finding myself 
waylaid and watched by knots of juvenile belles, with 
rosy lips buzzing, and their handsome eyes flashing and 
staring at me as if I was a "show" of some kind, while 
Isabel and the colonel were scarcely noticed. " What 
can have happened to me?" I asked myself, and ima- 
gined I had in some way disfigured my face, and so made 
a fright and sight of myself; but happening to pass a 
mirror, and finding my "beauty" unimpaired, and my 



THE SOUTIIERNEU AT HOME. 189 

appearance as it should be, I was excessively annoyed 
and curious to know wli}^ I was stared at and whispered 
about so. It was not done rudely, however, but civilly, 
and with a sort of pleased reverence. 

I did not discover the secret of it all until we had re- 
turned to the inn, when a gentleman, who is a poet, but 
I believe has never published any thing, called and sent 
in his card for me, his name written gracefully in a scroll 
held in the bill of a dove, all done with shining black 
lead. 

When he was admitted, he approached me with a dozen 
bows, and said he was happy to have the honor of wel- 
coming me to Columbia. He had just heard from some 
young ladies of the Academy that I had honored it with 
a visit, and he begged to assure me that I was appre- 
ciated, in the most distinguished manner, by all intellec- 
tual persons who had had the pleasure of reading my Let- 
ters from Overton Park, published in the Model Courier. 

" I trust I have also the honor," here the young gen- 
tleman turned and bowed low to the amazed colonel, ^' of 
seeing the celebrated colonel whom your pen has immor- 
talized, and this" — and here he made two very low bows 
to the puzzled Isabella — "is, without doubt, the bold 
and beautiful Miss Peyton, w^hom I have learned to ad- 
mire, though I have never before had the happiness of 
paying my respects to her." 

Mr. ! can you appreciate, have you nerves and 

sensibility enough to appreciate my position at that aw- 
ful moment ? I felt that the crisis had arrived ! I did 
not open my lips, but pale and motionless I sat and 
looked him into annihilation, and then I moved my eyes 
towards the colonel and Isabel, in a sort of helpless 



190 THE SUNNY south; or, 

despair, to sec the effect of this contretemps upon their 
unsuspecting minds. 

''What is this, Kate, eh? What is it the gentleman 
would say?" he asked, in an amusingly bewildered way. 

" I can explain, dear father ! Don't look so like the 
white lady in wax, dear Kate !" added Isabel, smiling. 
" I heard something of it at the school, and the girls 
all wondered I had never heard of it before, especially 
as I was spoken of in the Letters." 

"What letters, Bel?" asked her father. "You mys- 
tify me ! I heard something once, I now recollect, but 
it passed from my mind." 

" Why, sir, the truth is, there is a spy in the camp, 
dear father," answered Bel, with an arch smile, and 
glancing aside at me, " and this gentleman has been so 
good as to let the poor kitten loose in sight of everybody. 
Kate has been writing letters to a paper in Philadelphia, 
which have been printed, at least, so I was told at the 
Academy, a score of them, and every one of them dated 
at Overton Park, and descriptive of every thing that she 
saw or experienced there that she thought would be inte- 
resting ; and in these letters she has been so naughty as 
to speak of both of uS, at least so I was told, for I have 
not seen one of the letters, but I am dying to do so." 

"Nor I," said the colonel. "So! so! Then we have 
a literatteuriste in our family, 'takin' notes an' printin' 
*em' too, i' faith! You sly rogue, Kate," he added, 
turning to me, "you have got the advantage of me. So 
you have been making us all sit for our portraits, poor 
innocents !" 

"But she has not written one word, she would be 
afraid to have us read, that I know," said Isabel. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 191 

"That I'll vouch for, Kate! so don't look so Wank!" 
^'That she hasn't, sir," officiously exclaimed the 
wretched poet, as if he were eager to atone for his faux 
pas. ''Dear me! I didn't know but — but — every body 
knew — or — ! But sir! but. Miss ! you may rest assured 
that not a word is written, that. 



M •'^^'""^j 



' Dying, she would wish to blot/ 

She has alluded to you in every instance in the most 
princely, and affectionate, and respectful — " 

"My very good sir," interrupted the colonel, "the 
lady needs no apologist. We know well she has not. 
Now, Kate, if I had these Letters, I would, as a punish- 
ment to you, make you read every one of them aloud to 
us when Ave get back to the Park." 

"It would be a punishment," I said, smiling and 
taking heart again, at the kind and affectionate manner 
in which the discovery had been received by my two 
dear friends. "But if it will be received in full atone- 
ment — " 

"Full — complete," answered the colonel. 

"I have most all the Letters, sir; seventeen in number, 
sir, up to the last week," eagerly remarked the poet; 
"they are at your service, sir !" 

"And so, sir," said I, half angrily, "you would com- 
plete the mischief you have involuntarily done by a 
voluntary proposition to contribute to my punishment." 

"Ten thousand pardons. Miss Kate — I beg pardon, 
Miss Conyngham — I will Avithhold the Letters, then." 

"Nay, since you have them," said I, "and are willing 
to part with them for a time, (they shall be returned to 
your address again,) I will accept the offer; for, Colonel, 



192 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

I wish you to see all that I have written, and the sooner 
my mind will be relieved." 

"I am full of curiosity to read them," said Isabel 
eagerly. 

Thereupon the blabbing poet departed to bring them, 
when the colonel and Isabel, feeling for my chagrin, 
succeeded in reconciling me to myself; and when the 
miserable youth came back Avith the bale of Couriers un- 
der his arm, I was in a mood to receive them with a 
merry laugh, though still a tear or two of vexation 
trembled in my eyes, that the discovery had been made, 
and I heartily wished I had never written a line. But, 
who ever dreamed of my Letters being read here, out 
West^ or being thought of a week after they were written ? 
You know, sir, how insensibly they were drawn out from 
paper to paper, and increased to their present number, 
almost without my knowledge. 

"If I had reflected," as I now said to the colonel and 
Isabel, "that what is published in an Eastern paper is 
read as well in the West as if it had been printed there, 
for newspapers circulate everywhere, I should not have 
written, or written less freely in my use of names and 
places. I did not then understand that communications 
sent out from Tennessee, to a widely circulating paper 
in Philadelphia, will as certainly come back to Tennessee, 
and be read by all the next door neighbors of the writer, 
as certainly as if they had been printed in his own town. 
I did not understand, as I now do, that newspapers are 
without geographical limits and boundaries, but that their 
voices, like those of the stars, ^ go into all lands, and their 
words to the end of the world!' that to them belong 
neither climates nor latitudes; that the same journal 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 193 

which is read around the elegant fireside of glowing an- 
thracite in Walnut street, is also read, word for word 
and column for column, before the light of the log fire 
in the woodman's hut on the Mississippi." 

I have decided to continue to write my Letters, Mr. , 

for the colonel and Isabel have read all which I have 
written, (this being the third day since the discovery,) and 
find nothing that I should not have set down, save names, 
and, as they say, giving them both better characters than 
they deserve. I shall therefore resume my "journey" 
and give you an account of a delightful day passed at 
Ashwood, en route to the watering place, seven miles west 
of Columbia. 

The unlucky poet felt so badly at the scrape he had 
unwittingly got me into, that in the morning, when we 
left the inn, he came to the carriage, and bidding me 
good bye, begged me to pardon him, a request which I 
very cheerfully complied with. The last I saw of him, 
as the carriage turned the corner, was standing fixed to 
the spot where I had charitably shaken hands with him, 
his hat raised, and his body bowing, with his left hand 
frantically placed on his heart. 

Mr. , if you receive a piece of poetry from these 

parts, addressed to me^ " On meeting me" in Columbia, 
I implore you not to insert it, for I saw the mad phrensy 
of such an act in his eyes as I parted with him, and he 
will be sure to perpetrate the deed there fore-shadowed. 

Respectfully, yours, 

Kate. 
13 



194 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 



LETTER XXIV. 

This letter, my Dear Sir, is addressed to you from 
tlie loveliest region of this state, and from the "Garden 
of Eden" of this loveliest region. Maury county, (pro- 
nounced here Murry,) you must know, is the gem of 
Tennessee. It contains the most beautiful hills, the 
clearest brooks, the prettiest vales, the stateliest trees, 
the handsomest native parks, the richest farms, the 
wealthiest planters, the most intelligent population, the 
best seminaries of learning, and the loveliest ladies of all 
Tennessee ; at least the good people of Maury say so, 
and who should know so well as they, pray ? They also 
boast of having given a President to the United States, 
and its greatest astronomer to it — Lieutenant Maury, 
of the Observatory at Washington. So far as my ex- 
perience goes, I am ready to endorse all the good folks 
say; for Ashwood, which is the setting in the ring of 
Maury, and where I now am, is enough in itself to give 
grace to a much more inferior country. I will describe 
Ashwood to you. 

Eancy yourself, Mr. , (where you may be in per- 
son whenever you take it into your ambulatory brain to 
ramble this way,) seated in our roomy and luxurious 
carriage, by my side, if you are not too stout, and don't 
fill up too large a space, for, of all things, I love to ride 
comfortably; or by Isabel's side, — but then she is 30 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 195 

handsome, I dare say you would rather sit opposite to 
her, where you could watch the intelligent play of her 
beautiful features ; or, perhaps, better still, imagine your- 
self on horseback, riding by our window, with no object 
to obstruct your view of the country ; this will be best, 
after all — especially as you are supposed to be traveling- 
to see and print the country ; for I conceive that every- 
thing is viewed by an editor — typically — not as it really 
is, but how it will look in type — how many squares or 
paragraphs it will make ! Fancy yourself thus d cheval, 
and riding by our coach windows as we sally forth from 
the village of Columbia, with its one broad, rocky, side- 
walkless street. On your right you will not fail to notice 
the former cottage abode of the late President Polk, and 
on the left, the plain residence of Madame, his aged 
mother, to both of which I have before drawn your at- 
tention. 

A few minutes farther will bring you opposite the 
castellated edifice known far and near as the Columbia 
Institute, where I had "the honors" paid me the day 
before, and where is preserved a conservatory of loveli- 
ness, each virgin flower awaiting her turn of annual 
transplanting into the great wilderness of the world. 
Ah, girls ! if you knew the storms and clouds, the sad- 
nesses and sorrows, the cares and anguishes, the biting 
frosts and chilling winds that wither the heart and blight 
the spirit in the open world, you would hug your pre- 
sent shelter, and long linger, — dreading and shrinking 
to go forth, — within its protecting and safe embrace ! 

This reflection is supposed to be made by yourself, 

Mr. , in the philosophical m.ood which becomes an 

editor en voyage to see the earth he lives upon. After 



196 THE SUNNY SOUTH: OR, 

losing sight of the Institute, you will come to tlie top of 
the hill, and glance back to take a parting look of the 
village of Columbia, which is nestled picturesquely amid 
trees, w^ith a tower or two peering above them, on the 

banks of the romantic Duck ! Yes, Mr. , the classic, 

.and erudite, and scholastic Columbia is situated on the 
''Duck river." ''What is in a name?" you ask — 

" Duck, or Doddle, or Dunkins, or Dumplins ; all very 
good names in their way, if they mean good. A rose by 
any other name would no doubt smell like a rose." 
Suppose a rose were called "Quashee," would you name 

your lovely daughter Quashee ? Ah, Mr. , can you 

fancy your smiling babe looking as sweet with the name 
of Quashee indelibly fixed upon her, as she now does ? 
One of these days, we have no doubt that the refined 
polish of the Columbians will lead them to see the affin- 
ity between Duck and Quashee, and at least adorn their 
rock-cliffed river with a more euphonious name. 

After losing sight of the village, you will find yourself 
pacing smoothly along a level and broad pike, not 
roughened by even a pebble to disturb the even roll of 
the carriage wheels. The fields on one side are green 
and undulating — on the other is a fine wood. In a few 
minutes a dark brown villa meets your eye, some distance 
from the road, on the left hand, with a neat gate-way 
opening into a well-kept carriage-way, that sweeps hand- 
somely round a lawn up to its portico. The grounds 
are ornamented, well kept, and neatly enclosed, and the 
whole place has an air of scholarly seclusion, combined 
with the most enviable domestic comfort. This is the 
abode of the Right Rev. Bishop Otey, of the Tennessee 
Diocese of the American Episcopal Church. This resi- 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 197 

dence is the seat of true clerical hospitality. Bishop 
Otej is indeed the reverend father in God of all his 
clergy, who look up to him Avith a filial love, combined 
with a fraternal confidence, that speaks volumes for the 
traits of character of a Bishop, who can command such 
voluntary affection. Bishop Otey stands among the very 
first Prelates of the Church, w^hich his piety and learn- 
ing so eminently adorn. If you will turn your eyes in 
that direction, you will discover him in a brown linen 
coat, and home-made trowsers, and an old straw hat, 
working amid his shrubbery. That bright-eyed young 
girl, with a shade hat in her hand, and a cloud of sunny 
hair, is his youngest daughter, the pride of her father's 
heart, who has recently laid beneath the green earth two 
still more beautiful ones. It i& only the hope of the 
Christian that can strengthen and bind up the heart 
broken by such heavy strokes as these. Calm and holy 
confidence in a life beyond the stars, where the severed 
here shall entwine in each other's embrace, holy lip to 
holy lip, loving heart to loving heart, — can only lend en- 
durance to separations in this. Without this sure and 
steadfast hope, what a bottomless pit of crushed afi"ections 
would the grave be ? 

The road now divides a green and verdant landscape, 
more woodland than field, but made up of both, with 
here and there a tenement of some small proprietor. 
You are pleased with the beauty of the trees, the height 
and majesty of the silver-trunked sycamore, overshadow- 
ing some rock-bound crystal spring, or by the graceful 
bendings of a group of willows bordering a rivulet ; or 
by the breadth of the broad-armed oak on the sunny hill- 
side ; or by the feathering and stately elegance of the 



198 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

Indian salex ; or the columnar altitude of the poplar, 
marking the site of some hidden cottage. 

I see you gaze with admiration into the sun-dappled 
forests, whose broad patches of light and shade look like 
scenes in Claude Lorraines's pictures, and remind you 
of them. You wonder at the green sward beneath the 
trees being so green and soft, as if it had been the work 
of trained English gardeners ; when the extent of these 
lawn like forests convinces you that they are as nature's 
gardening left them. I see you stretch your neck to see 
where the deer are. They seldom come near the road, 
and in the vicinity of towns are rarely seen now. There 
are few or no deer in this county of Maury, but those 
that are tamed and kep^ for gentle adornment to the vi- 
cinage of some villa. 

Did you ever trot over a smoother road, sir ? For the 
last three miles, not a stone the size of your watch seal 
has been encountered by the polished wheel-tire. Does 
not the stately span of mules move with a truly equinine 
bravery and speed ? I see by your eye, as you are watch- 
ing their pace, that you mean to have a pair for Broad 
street, or whatever other avenue you Philadelphia gentle- 
men make a fashionable driving thorouojhfare. The col- 
oncl offers you a cigar out of the window. Don't refuse it, 
Mr. . They were brought from Havana by the tiger- 
captain, and are pronounced nonpareil. I love to see a 
gentleman smoke who knows how to smoke ; but, bless 
me ! when they do not know how, what filthy work they 
make of it ! The awkward way they embrace the cigar 
with the unskilled lips, as if it were an unusually large 
stick of bitter barley candy — the jaundice-colored exuda- 
tions of juice, which must be expectorated twice in every 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 199 

minute — the — but enough : if these may not be written 
about by pens polite, how can the spectacle be endured 
as it is bj hundreds of polite eyes and polite nerves 
daily ? 

Oh ! ye monstrosities of smokers — ye caricaturists of 
a cigarilian luxury — ye unsuccessful imitators of the 
inimitable ! — chew tobacco at once, but don't — don't join 
together in one operation what was ever intended to be 
kept asunder. I see you smoke your cigar like a true 

smoker, Mr. . You use it as familiarly as the jockev 

his whip, or the fine lady her fan. You handle it as 
delicately as if it were made of gossamer, yet puff it as 
vigorously as if it were of the consistency of gutta percha. 
You do not so much smohe as inspire and exhale azurely 
— as if it were as natural to you as to breathe ordinarily. 
You never remove it from your mouth, save to laugh, for 
you converse with it as if it incommoded you no more 
than your lips or teeth, and then you touch it delicately 
and regard it affectionately. An admirably finished and 
endurable smoker ! Such smoking is not unlawful, and 
can never be indicted as nuisable. Colonel, please 

hand Mr. another cigar. 

Kate. 



20C THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 



LETTER XXV. 

Mr. : 

My Dear Sir, — There is probably no purgatory on 
earth (for purgatories abound in this world) so effectually 
conducive to penitence and repentance as a watering 
place. If good cannot come out of evil, nor light out of 
darkness, nor laughter out of sorrow, neither can any 
thing interesting proceed from a watering place. Never- 
theless, I have to fly to my pen for solace. I have read 
till reading is insufferably tiresome — I have walked till 
I could walk no longer — I have talked till I am tired 
hearing my own voice and the voices of others — I have 
jumped the rope till I have blistered the soles of my 
feet, and made my hands burn — I have drunk the waters 
until I shall never bear to hear water mentioned again — 
I have danced under the trees, and looked on in the old 
dancing-room, till dancing is worn out — I have yawned 
till I have nearly put my jaws out — and I have sat till 
I could hardly keep my eyes open, looking at the trees, 
the hot walks, the listlessly-wandering-about people, that 
look as if they could take laudanum, hang themselves, 
or cut their throats, "just as lief do it as not," if it 
were not so impolite and wicked to shock people's nerves 
by perpetrating such dreadful things ! I have slept till 
my eyes won't hold any more sleep, and are swelled and 
red like two pink pin-cushions. I have rolled ninepins 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 201 

till I have nearly broken my arm with the heavy balls ; 
and it is too hot to sew, to knit, to net, to do any thing 
but write ! This I can do when all other things fail. 
I can write off a headache, w^rite away care, and bury 
miserable thoughts in the dark depths of my inkstand. 

Therefore, Mr. , I fly to my escritoire for relief 

from the tedium which everywhere surrounds me. 

It is just half-past twelve in the morning. Let me 
describe to you what I see from the open window, before 
which I write. Directly in front is a broad lawn, inter- 
sected in every possible direction by foot-paths, some of 
which lead to the dining room, others to the bowling 
alley, others to cottages and cabins, others from these to 
the springs. This lawn is now hotly waving in the un- 
dulations of the heated atmosphere. The sides and roofs 
of the cabins are also trembling with the quick waves 
of rarified air, vibrating along their sun-heated superficies. 
A solitary negress, in a blue frock, — for most of them 
dress in blue check, — is slowly gliding along the path 
from the spring, with a jar of water balanced upon her 
head, for her mistress. She is singing in a low, musical, 
unintelligible tone. She is the only moving object visible. 
At the foot of the lawn runs, in a shadowy coolness, a 
brawling brook, now flowing like a melting mirror over 
a smooth, flat rock — now gurgling in a dozen mimic falls 
of white foam — now rushing hoarsely between narrow 
channels — and now whirling and hissing in eddying 
circles about the roots of a tree that have temporarily 
dammed its progress. 

Beyond this romantic brook, the sight of which is 
enough to cool a fever, ascends irregularly a green bank, 
dotted with beech and birch trees, to the summit of a 



202 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

ridge, along whicli winds the road by wWcli we came to 
the Springs. The whole scene before us is rustic, quiet, 
and wild, and would have been pronounced a perfect 
wood-scene by good old Izaak Walton ; for not even 
trout are wanting. There sits an elderly lawyer, with 
his back against an oak, a long rod in his hand, the hook 
at the extremity of which has been baitless for the last 
hour, while the angler sleeps with his mouth wide open ; 
and I fancy I hear his sonorous snore mingling not un- 
harmoniously with the guttural noise of the brook. Not 
many paces from him is stretched, in ponderous length, 
a hu2:e brown horse, his head a little cast to one side, as 
if he were eagerly listening ; but it is all a deception ; a 
little closer scrutiny will show you that his large eyes 
are both shut, and that he is also as sound asleep as 
the old lawyer, only he doesn't hold his mouth open. 
Brutes always sleep, I have observed, with dignity. An 
eastern sage has said that men and beasts are on a level 
when they sleep ! There is, doubtless, something deep 
lying under this observation, if we could think it out ; 
but it would take other heads to do that ! The bowling 
alley is in full sight. Its thunder is silent — its thunder- 
bolts repose. The negro boy who sets up is now lying 
down upon the broad of his back, in the sun, and seems 
to be enjoying sleep as only an African can. On the 
benches are stretched gentlemen in various picturesque 
attitudes, some sleeping, others smoking, and idly con- 
versing. The air is so still, the buzzing of the flies is 
heard in the sunny air, like the distant murmur of a 
busy spinning-wheel. The mosquitoes are the only things 
that seem to be taking time by the fore-lock. There, 
under an opposite gallery, reclines a fat gentleman in an 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 208 

arm-cliair, and doing liis best to get to sleep, in order to 
forget that he is at these horrid Springs. Now he slaps 
at a mosquito with his right hand, then he hits at another 
with his left, his eyes both shut all the while ; now he 
brings his fleshy palm down upon his forehead, with a 
slap loud enough to wake the ancient lawyer with the 
fishing-rod; and now he grumbles out a half-choked 
oath, and throws his great red silk-handkerchief over his 
face. But I see they bite through this, for he kicks out 
his short legs in a kind of frenzy of desperation. I can 
see the Etna-like tip of his nose pointing upwards under- 
neath the handkerchief, a fair mark for a sharp pro- 
boscis. A shrewd mosquito has found the place vulne- 
rable, and the victim, seizing the end of his nose, wrings 
it as if he were wringing off the head of a chicken ; at 
the same time being bitten on the knee, the fat gentle- 
man roars and kicks fiercely out, and the chair, which 
was never manufactured for such trials of strength as 
this, refuses longer to sustain him in his freaks, and dis- 
solves into its primitive parts, every round and leg unglu- 
ing and separating from its bed, and letting him down 
bodily amid the wreck like a huge globe fallen from its 
sphere. What a change ! Presto, how the Springs are 
alive ! The crash, heard all around, starts fifty sleepers, 
one hundred and fifty idlers, two hundred dozers, black 
and white, and all run to the scene of disaster, to see 
what has happened ; for, at the Springs, an incident is 

worth five hundred dollars, Mr. , if it is worth a 

dime. The fat gentleman finds himself the cynosure of 
all eyes, and the butt of all possible inquiries of— 

"What is it? How did it happen? Who's hurt or killed? 
Bless me, my dear sir, arc any of your bones broken?" 



204 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

The latter inquiry could never have been satisfactorily 
responded to by the fat gentleman, as, without doubt, he 
had lost sight of his bones many years before, under- 
neath the masses of superincumbent flesh which lay larded 
eight fingers deep thereupon. 

There is no describing the effect this little incident has 
produced upon the whole circle of animated life. The 
bowlers, once aroused, are playing at mimic thunder 
again — the ancient barrister has shut his huge mouth, 
opened his eyes, put on his spectacles, and resumed his 
occupation of fishing for subaqueous clients. The old 
brown horse has thrust out his two fore-legs on the grass, 
and pulled himself heavily up from his haunches to his 
hoofs, and begun to crop the sward. The cabins, lately 
so quiet, resound with the laughter of young girls, and 
the octave voices of ladies calling to their maids to pre- 
pare them for dinner, for the hour of this important 
event is at hand. In half an hour the dancing-room 
will be filled with beaux and belles, papas and mammas, 
buzzing, and walking, and gazing, and waiting for the 
dinner-bell. We shall have a dinner, such as it may be, 
but luxurious enough for people who will leave pleasant 
homes to go to watering-places ! 

Ten o'clock, P. M. 
The day is past; and as it is our last day at the 
Springs, therefore rejoice with me, Mr. . I am im- 
patient to be back once more to my dear, familiar room, 
with its thousand and one comforts. I want to see my 
pet deer, my doves, my squirrel, my flowers, my books, 
my own looking-glass, for I don't look like myself 
in these at the Springs, which look as if they had been 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 205 

niacic while a stiff breeze was rippling across their molter. 
surface. 

I write to the measure of the dance in the hall, and 
the merry jingle of violins and castanets. The young 
folks are enjoying themselves while they are young. 
The happiest persons I saw in the ball-room, however, 
were the blacks. You who live in a free State, have no 
idea of the privileges this class are permitted in a slave 
State by the white people. They stand in the doors and 
otherwise vacant places of the ball-room, and laugh, and 
are as much at home as "massa and missis." They go 
and come around or across it as they please; a favored 
aunty will even ask you, "Please, missis, stand dis way 
little bit, so I can see!" and ''missis" complies as 
readily as if a lady had asked her. 

One reason of this is that the system is so intimately 
interwoven with domestic arrangements, and associations, 
and habits, that, to all Southerners, slaves are necessary 
appurtenances in all places. If they see not their own 
slaves, they see those of others, and pay no attention to 
their goings and comings. The slave will even attend 
her mistress with her umbrella or cloak to her pew, and, 
leaving them, go out again down the broad aisle, no one 
noticing her. I have seen slaves sent from one part of 
a church to another, during service, without attracting 
observation; nay, even into the pulpit, to restore the 
clergyman his pocket-handkerchief, Avhich he had let 
fall. But in the North, who would suffer "negroes" to 
appear in such places? A Southerner never objects nor 
thinks of objecting to the presence of a servant any- 
where. I might travel with Edith in a stage from Mem- 
phis to Savannah, and not a Southern gentleman in it 



200 THE SUNNY south; or, 

would speak of it, or think of it; while from a New Eng- 
land coach, she would be ejected. Tell me, Mr. , 

why is this so ? How is it, as it is certainly the fact, 
that the Northern people have a positive dislike for the 
negro? But I will not discuss this question. 

These Springs have only within a few years attracted 
attention. They are embosomed in the depths of a wil- 
derness far from village, or civilized habitation. The road 
by which we reached them after quitting Mount Pleasant, 
a pretty and dirty village this side of Ashwood, lay for 
twenty-eight miles through a forest, which was scarcely 
invaded by the woodman's axe. For fifteen miles we 
did not see a habitation. The solitude was grand. The 
surface of the country was undulating, and we could see 
long vistas into the depths of glens, where I imagined 
lay the deer in covert, and where once crouched the wild 
beast in his lair. It seemed at every winding in our 
road that we should come upon some Indian hunter. 
But the red man was not there. Wasted like summer 
clouds in the warm sun, he had disappeared before 
the sun of civilization. Now and then a squirrel would 
cross our path, or a gray-plumed woodpecker startle 
the echoes with his busy knocking at the doors of the 
insects' homes, in the bark of the trees, for them to 
come out and be eaten. Once a huge black snake lay 
directly in our path, and would not stir till Charles 
lashed him with the whip, when he moved ofi* as deliber- 
ately as if he did not care for us, — a spice of the old 
E(<ilen pride of power left in him. Of all things, why 
should a serpent have been made use of by Sathanas to 
tempt Eve ? It were more likely to frighten her. Per- 
haps, however, that to Eve, before the Fall, all things 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 207 

(all of God's creatures) were beautiful, — for it is sin only 
that deforms and brings deformity ! 

That Eve is not surprised that the serpent has a voice, 
is, because she and Adam spoke, and it was natural for 
her to suppose, until experience taught her to the con- 
trary, that all brutes were likewise gifted with speech. 
We see her evince no amazement at the vocal powers of 
the serpent. 

Dear me ! if I had been Eve — but nobody knows what 
a body would have done, had a body been Eve ! — the pro- 
bability is, that I should have eaten two apples instead 
of one. 

The arrival of our cavalcade at the Springs produced 
a sensation, as new arrivals always do, — but nobody 
seemed to notice its size and variety. Indeed, since we 
have been here, quite a dozen of arrivals quite as formi- 
dable in largeness of retinue have occurred. Nay, one 
young lady had a wagon bringing up the rear containing 
her harp and guitar. Some of the parties brought an 
extra wagon for baggage. 

Last Saturday, quite a horse troop of lads and lasses, 
from the adjacent country, broke in upon us like a foray 
of Highlanders upon the lowlands. Some of the young 
men, every soul of whom was full six feet tall, brought 
their rifles, and the girls an extra pair of shoes for a dance. 
Some of the girls were handsome, but bold looking, and 
■with very fine figures. They actually took possession 
of the hall, and danced half the day ; and then the young 
men went down to a level meadow and passed an hour 
shooting at a mark at fifty and eighty yards ; and excel- 
lent marksmen, I am told, these Tennesseans are. They 
are brave men too ! There is a look of quiet resolution 



208 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

fiboiit them that gives indications of that martial spirit 
wliicli the trumpet of war so readily awakes in their 
bosoms. General Jackson was not so much one individual 
as he was the representative man of Tennessee. All 
true born Tennesseans are more or less like him in as- 
pect, build, courage, and indomitable resolution. They 
take a pride in him ! They teach their children to imi- 
tate him ! His name was the most stirring war-cry used 
by the Tennessee legions in Mexico. Not long since 
Isabel was at a party where, during the evening, the 
bust of General Jackson was brought out and placed 
upon a pedestal in the hall. It was hailed with three 
cheers by the lads, and crowned with flowers by the 
girls, who hand in hand danced around it, and sang with 

spirit, 

"Hail to the Chief r 

The days at the Springs are passed pretty much alike ; 
— the three meals being the most important points of 
interest. What, with bowling and quaffing the waters, 
dancing and walking, sleeping and talking, dressing and 
eating, fighting the mosquitoes, and watching what others 
do, we manage to kill each day, but are half killed in 
our turn. To-morrow we leave. All is excitement 
among our party. Dickon is in ecstasies, and when he 
runs he turns a somerset at every third step. Charles 
looks happy. Philip's serene face shows his content. 
Edith expresses herself heartily tired of the place, albeit 

she has been the belle here. Do not think, Mr. , 

that the "darker shades" of our party do not find 
''reliefs." Probably there are here two hundred ser- 
vants, belonging to the various families. Now as people 
generally travel with their body servants, which are of 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 209 

a caste superior to the rest, of course at the Springs they 
enjoy the elite of the best society of Darkeydom. 

The position of each colored individual is indisputably 
fixed by that of his master. A servant of the President 
of the United States, would of course be recognized as 
"fuss class airystokrasy" by his fellow servants. The 
richer and more respectable the master, the more re- 
spectable the man or maid. Hence our colored circle is 
exceedingly recherche. "It is," as Edith says, "ob de 
highest exstinction." 

If you would take your stand near the spring when 
they come down after pitchers of water, you would witr 
ness practical politeness. The courtesy of Samuel, the 

coachman of Dr. W to Mary, the maid of Mrs. 

Col. , as he solicits the honor of filling her pitcher for 

her, and placing it on the polished mahogany veneering of 
her rounded shoulders of the brightest brown tint, would 
edify you. The polite salaams of Jacob to Rachel, the 
dressing woman, and of Isaac, the footman, to Rebecca, 
the nursery maid, would charm you. But you should 
see the aristocracy of the shades dining. After the 
masters and mistresses have left the dining hall, the long 
table is relaid, and they who whilom served are now 
feasted. 

I have been twice in to look at them. Not less than 
one hundred Ethiopian and Nubian ladies and gemmen 
were seated in the places occupied an hour before by 
their masters and mistresses. The entrees were con- 
ducted comme ilfaut. There were servants of " de lower 
klass," scullions and ostlers, boot-blacks and idlers, to 
wait on them. The order, courtesy, civility, and pro- 
priety that were observed at the table, could not have 
14 



210 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

been surpassed at a dinner at Windsor Castle : on the 
contrary, they were more polite than people at a Royal 
dinner. The bowing and handing across the table to the 
ladies — the " Shall I help you to a piece of de tender 
loin;Missee Cinderella?" "Will you take a purtatur, 
Mistress Betty?" ''Thank you. Mister Thomas, I will 
if you pleases." "Here is a nice slice of the bres' of 
de turkey for you, Missy Arabella." "Thankee ! much 
obligated; it berry nice. Mister Napoleon Bonaparte." 
"Ladies and gemmen, here de health of our Massas and 
Missesses, and may dey nebber die till dere time come, 
an' den lib forebber." 

This toast being drunk in the residue of claret, there 
was a more positive set-to upon the viands. Arid so these 
black rogues dine every day ! I say to you, truthfully, 

Mr. , the slaves in this state seem to be quite as 

well content as their masters ; in fact, are only second 
to them in all that they enjoy. I am becoming more 
and more reconciled to the system ; but I don't think I 
could charge myself with the responsibility of oiiming a 
slave. Not that I think it wrong. The Bible allows it. 
But to feel that a human being was mine ! that I was ac- 
countable to him for his happiness and comfort here, and 
to God for his soul's weal hereafter I This is, I think, 
one of the most responsible features of domestic servitude. 
"I f^el," said an intelligent Christian lady to me, "I 
feel more deeply the weight of responsibility which the 
ownership of the slaves my father has left me, places 
upon me, than I do that of my own children. I tremble 
at the reflection that God v/ill ask their soul's lives at 
my hands !" 

The sound of the feet of the dancers has ceased, and 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 211 

silence reigns in the hall so lately the scene of merriment. 
Night is hushing all sounds. Here and there a star can 
be seen, twinkling down through the opening in the trees 
The murmur of the brook reaches my ear like an audible 
voice. Some sleepless Orpheus is now waking the si- 
lence with an ill-touched flute. Distant laughter of 
young men, at cards, or wine, comes from yonder cabin. 
A baby is crying in the room next to mine ! I hear the 
sleepy father's growl, and the patient mother's low 
''hush." A mosquito sings in my ears, and another 
bold wretch has bitten me on the hand. These are warn- 
ings for me to retire, especially as we are to make an 
early start homeward. So, good-night. 

Kate. 



212 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 



Mr. 



LETTER XXVI. 

Overton Park. 



Once more in my own room, at my own desk and 
escritoire^ with familiar objects, I resume my pen to ad- 
dress you. How much what one writes depends for its 
character upon the place in which it is penned ? To 
write at ease, I must have everything about me that I 
have been accustomed to. I must have my light ar- 
ranged in just such a way, so that a soft radiance, mellow- 
ing everything in the room, shall fall upon my paper, 
just distinctly enough for me to see, yet not strong enough 
to distract my attention by glare. I must have perfect 
quiet, too. I can write best by lamp-light, a shaded 
lamp, with the light thrown softly upon the paper. In a 
rainy day my thoughts flow freest. I must have an old- 
fashioned goose-quill. I cannot accustom myself to a 
steel pen. It trips me up, and I have an awkward way 
of bearing on when I write that a steel pen won't yield 
to with sufficient flexibility. Half the people in this 
country write on ruled paper. This is my abhorrence ! 
I don't stop to notice lines, and so if I can't get any but 
ruled paper, I write as often between the lines as on 
them. I was taught, fortunately, to write straight at 
school; and so were all my schoolmates ; and, till lately, 
I supposed everybody could write on unruled paper. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 213 

But Avlicn I was last in Nashville, I went to three book 
stores on an unsuccessful search for unruled letter paper. 
" We don't keep it — it is hardlj ever called for — every- 
body buys the ruled," were the answers we received : but 
at length I have obtained some by sending away for it. 
The colonel says he has seen letters both from Henry 
Clay and Daniel Webster written on lines. This is no 
doubt owing to the accident of not having unruled paper 
by them. It is school-boyish to follow this habit. Cer- 
tainly no young lady ought to be considered educated 
until she can write a letter on paper without ruled lines. 

My last epistle left me just on the eve of departing 
from the Springs. Well, we did leave the following 
morning, taking up our line of travel, in the same impos- 
ing caravanish manner in which we had come. 

Towards evening, after a cool day's ride through the 
forest, before described, we reached the little toAvn of 
Mount Pleasant, which is situated amid the loveliest 
scenery possible. Here we remained all night, putting 
up with indifferent accommodations. This village ought 
to be the prettiest in the state. But its population 
seems to have no taste or pride. They let enormous 
hogs, with noses like ploughshares, turn up their streets, 
which the rain converts into bog holes; they neglect to 
paint, or, at least, white-wash their fences; they pay no 
attention to the neatness of their front yards; they are 
without passable side-walks, and destitute of shade trees. 
Why, if the scores of idlers we saw lounging about the 
shops and tavern, would go to work for a week, in earn- 
est, they might make their town truly a Mount Pleasant, 
and double the value of it. 

How dirty some of these Western towns are kept. I 



214 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

feel as if I wanted to take up the people and show them 
the New England villages, as they show children Lon- 
don. I am told the citizens are intelligent and highly 
respectable; how then can they sit down in so much un- 
tidiness ? Why is it that they don't know that rocks, 
barrel hoops, rails, old shoes, old hats, boot legs, rags, 
broken crockery, and such trash, disfigure a street, and 
would mar the finest avenue that ever ran through a vil- 
lage? The worst of it is, Mr. , Western people 

don't care one fig for the opinion of strangers; while 
Northerners live, as you may say, for the eyes of others. 
Hence the attention of the one to the looks of everything 
about his house and town, and the indifference of the 
other to those things. 

After leaving Mount Pleasant, our road lay through a 
sweet valley, along the margin of a romantic stream. 
The scenery was charming. In the course of an hour's 
ride, Isabel selected fifty superb sites for villas ; for she 
has a penchant for looking out pretty places to build upon ; 
and, for that matter, so have I. But as I am not an 
heiress, I fear the only house I shall ever call mine, will 
be one of those "mansions" spoken of in the good Book. 

About nine o'clock we passed Ashwood school, nestled 
beneath the wooded cone of Ken Hill, and were so for- 
tunate as to meet at the gate the learned Professor of 
Belles Lettres, Donald McLeod, Esq., of Glasgow Uni- 
versity, — a gentleman well known in the literary con- 
stellation of our land. He is said to possess one of the 
most scholarly minds in this country. How is it that 
all Glasgow, and Dublin, and Oxford men that I meet, 
are so much better educated than Harvard and Yale men? 
Is the American system superficial? One would think 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 215 

SO. The most eloquent scholar I recollect ever to have 
seen was a graduate of the University of Dublin. I 
have never seen an American, even a Professor, who 
could converse fluently in Latin, or write Greek prose 
with facility ; yet I have seen many from the above Uni- 
versities do both. As for the young men here in the 
West, their education is scarcely deserving of the name. 
There is not a college in Tennessee of much higher rank 
than a New England Academy, and ambitious young 
men, after taking degrees at these Western "Colleges," 
go to Harvard, and enter Sophomore. Perhaps a senior 
Harvard man would have to enter low at Oxford! Who 
knows ? The education of girls West is far beyond that 
of the youths. Expense is not taken into account where 
a daughter is to be educated; but fathers seem to think 
money is thrown away in educating boys. Tennessee 
has no common school system in operation, and in her 
capital, hundreds of children are growing up wholly 
ignorant. 

Mr. McLeod was accompanied by a short, little, for- 
eign-looking old gentleman, with gray whiskers, and a 
demi-military air, who was over-dressed like a French 
petit maitre of the ancient school. He was mounted on 
a large gray horse, which he managed with a skilled 
hand. He was presented to us as " The Compte Meolis." 
He boAved to his saddle bow, and lifted his chapeau with 
dignified and smiling politeness, and said he was " our 
very humble servant." 

"Meolis," said I, thoughtfully, "There was a Gover- 
nor of Rome of that name, sir?" 

"Yes," he answered; "that is me, at your service, 
Miss," he responded, bowing. 



216 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

I gazed on him with curiosity, for I now recalled to 
mind that General Meolis of Rome, was commander of 
the Garde Mobile, which was composed of Knights; and 
that he held Kome against the Spanish troops. This 
w^arrior was then, in person, this old Knight of seventy 
now before me, riding by the side of the carriage, his 
riding whip and bridle in one hand, and his open snuff- 
box in the other. As we passed a cart which was dis- 
charging stone, the noise alarmed the old Count's horse, 
and he had an opportunity of displaying his admirable 
horsemanship, by skillfully restraining the fire of his 
animal ; but in the caracolling, a paper was released from 
the rider's gaping coat pocket, which bursting as it fell, 
strewed the ground with candy and bon-bons. Then he 
dismounted carefully to gather them up, smiling good 
humoredly at the mishap, and telling us that he always 
carried them when he went to the school, ^'pour les en- 
fants.'' We found him social and amusing, and quite 
a gallant homme, and really regretted his departure 
when he took leave of us at the marble gate-way of Mon- 
mouth, the residence of Mr. A. Polk, w^here he resides. 
When he left us, he bowed to his horse's mane, and 
slowly rode up the avenue, as if he regretted to quit 
such good company as Isabel and me. Mr. McLeod left 
us previously, to call at St. John's Chapel. From the 
colonel I learned that the Count was an old French 
exile ; that he was a nephew of Marshal Ney, and had 
been a distinguished officer under Napoleon. That he 
had been many years in this country, had taught at 
Germantown, and a few years since w^as invited to take 
the chair of Modern Languages in the Columbia Insti- 
tute; but that, being now almost loo old to teach, Mr. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 217 

Polk, with genuine Southern hospitality, has invited him 
to become an inmate of his house, where he has given 
him a home for life. 

The Count is a man of excellent amiability, and a 
good deal of simplicity of character ; but his friends say, 
as his memory of past events f;iils, he draws a little on 
his imagination, and they sometimes run him somewhat 
hard upon having said he was at two places on the same 
day, which were five hundred miles apart, doing good 
fighting at both. But the Count takes the quizzing in 
good part, shrugs his shoulders, plies his snuff, smiles 
ineffably, and says, "Maybe, jentilmen, I vas mistake 
de day. But vera good ! You may laugh, I laugh next 
time!" 

The Count is fond of children, for whom he ahvays 
has his pockets full of cakes or candy ; he is a good 
"churchman," and occasionally still teaches the French 
class en amateur at Ken Hill School. May he live a 
thousand years! if his generous host has no objections. 

After passing the Ashwood gate and post-office, we 
drove rapidly into Columbia, a distance of seven miles ; 
and by three o'clock in the afternoon, we once more be- 
held the roofs and chimneys of Overton Hall towering 
above the oaks which environ it. How delightful the 
sensation of realizing that one's wanderings have ceased, 
and that one is at home again ! It is worth enduring 
the discomforts of a watering-place a short time, to en- 
joy this feeling. Every thing seems to be more beauti- 
ful here than before. And how many changes have 
taken place in the few weeks we have been absent ! The 
peaches have ripened ; the apples are becoming rosy 
red ; a new set of flowers have made their appearance, 



218 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

and instead of the little eggs which we left in the mock- 
ing-bird's cage are three innocent little things that look 
something like mice, on the eve of feathering. Then 
the canaries were so glad to see us, sending forth the 
wildest and most joyous carols from their tiny throats 
for very happiness. The rabbits frisked about us, and 
all the dogs, " Tray, Blanche, and Sweetheart," acted as 
if they would shake their tails off with their rough and 
gyratory welcomings, running around and around us, 
and then around the house, chasing each other in full 
race, and tumbling and rolling over the grass, from sheer 
excess of spirits. Then the old blind war-horse pricked 
up his ears, when he heard my voice, and gave three 
great whisks of his heavy tail, ending with a low whine 
of joy. But you should have seen my pet deer, the 
once wounded invalid. I had no sooner entered the 
green paddock where it was, then it came bounding to- 
wards me with long, graceful leaps, and would fairly 
have run over me, if I had not stepped aside. As it 
was, it gave me a rough and honest-hearted welcome, 
rubbing its nose against my shoulder, and almost, nay, 
I very believe, the rogue tried to kiss me, but this salu- 
tation I adroitly escaped, and hugged my pet about the 
neck in lieu thereof, and patted its shoulder. But this 
was too quiet a way of expressing its joy at seeing me 
again ; so it broke from me, and began to caper about 
the paddock, flying around it, then across it at right 
angles, then from corner to corner, and then miscellane- 
ously in every direction, all at once, and finally ter- 
minating this mikra mania by suddenly crouching at 
my feet. 

But the best welcome of all was that from the ser- 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 219 

vants. They flocked around the carriage, every dark 
face radiant with smiles, and exhibiting ivory enough 
for half a mile of piano-keys placed in a row. Jenny 
Lind's reception in New York was a trifle compared with 
ours. I thought they would shake our hands off. After I 
had been a little while in my room, in came Aunt Winny, 
the fat cook, in her Sunday fix, having rigged up to 
welcome me, being too particular to come in, in her work- 
in o- dress. She seemed so fflad to see me, and said it so 
many times, that I did not at all regret a trip, the re- 
turn from which could be productive of so much simple 
and hearty joy. She then told me how they had all 
missed us, and " 'specially the deer, Missy Kate," she 
added, " it acted just like a human a'ter you went away, 
and cried a'ter you like a baby, and wouldn't eat noffin' 
for de fuss two days, and I had to cook it someat nice, 
and coax it, and then 'twouldn't eat till I made Jake put 
on your old rainy cloak and old sun hat and come and 
stand by me, to make b'lieve it's you, you know, and the 
simple t'ing begin to eat right offi" 

At the idea of seeing the black imp Jake, her long-heeled, 
thick-lipped son, personating me, I burst into a hearty 
fit of laughter, but I did not fail to compliment Aunt 
Winny 's sagacity, and to reward her solicitude for my pet. 

All is now as it was before we left. I have Isabel at 
her piano again before breakfast, practising Jenny Lind's 
songs ; the colonel goes galloping a-field ere the dew is 
off the grass, and I am at my morning studies in Ger- 
man as before. There is, however, some prospect that 
ere long we shall make another excursion, but not to 
any watering-place. The colonel will have to visit New 
Orleans to aaTange for the sale of his cotton and tobacco, 



220 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

in October, and he has invited us to accompany him. 
The trip will be a delightful one, the first two hundred 
miles being down the dark flowing Cumberland, which is 
described as one of the most beautiful of Western rivers, 
then on the Ohio, and thence launched upon the Missis- 
sippi, we shall keep its mighty current for a thousand 
miles. The idea of such a voyage in the superb steamers 
that float upon these western waters is pleasant, and I 
have no doubt that we shall greatly enjoy ourselves. 
Yet I sigh at the prospect of once more quitting our 
retreat. But in this world, sajs the wise man, "No- 
thing is in one stay." Every thing, indeed, is moving. 
The earth races round the sun, the moon around the 
earth, which rolls around itself ; Mars and Jupiter chass^ 
with Venus, and the sun itself, say the astronomers, 
marches at a dignified pace around some unknown cen- 
tre of the universe. ''Keep moving," then, being the 
watchword of the planets, how can we insignificant 
dwellers thereon but follow the example of our betters ! 
So we shall go to New Orleans. * 

Whether I write you again before we are en route, 
will depend on circumstances. I promised you a letter 
from the Hermitage, and this you shall have, if possible, 
as next week we ride over there, it being but a short two 
hours' gallop across the country. 

I am glad to find the Americans received Jenny Lind 
with so much enthusiasm. A love for music is common 
to men and angels. It allies us to them in sympathies 
the more we delight in song. It is a divine talent, and 
if we believe the Bible, it will go with us beyond the 
grave ; for the happy beings in Paradise are represented 
as singing now the "Song of the Lamb," and now the 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 221 

'^New Song," to the sublime accompaniment of ten 
thousand times ten thousand angels striking their harps 
of gold, saying : 

" Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, 
and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honor, and 
glory, and blessing ; and every creature which is on the 
earth, and under the earth, heard I saying. Blessing, and 
honor, and glory, and power be unto Him that sitteth upon 
the throne, and unto the Lamb forever ;" and they ended 
this celestial chorus by casting their glittering crowns 
before the throne of Him who liveth forever and ever. 

It is a hopeful thing for a nation to rise up as one 
man, and do homage to this personification of earthly 
music. They do not so much worship her, as recognize 
the existence in her of the perfection of that which be- 
longs to humanity en masse, but is vouchsafed to but 
one in a generation. To see them doing homage to her 
kindles hope for the elevation of our country, just as 
following in the chariot-wheels of a conqueror, with his 
garments rolled in blood, would darken hopes of the ad- 
vancement of humanity. One thing only is wanting to 
complete the halo of glory which encircles the modest 
brow of Jenny Lind. It is to consecrate her voice by 
singing therewith one Hymn to the Being who endowed 
her with it. Let her pour forth in the sacred chaunts 
of the princely David, or the queenly Miriam, that thril- 
ling voice, and our souls would soar on wings of her 
songs to the very gates of Paradise. Then, indeed, 
would she be able to prove to the world that music is a 
"gift of God wherewith to praise Him." 

Yours respectfully, 

Kate. 



222 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 



LETTER XXVII. 

Mr. : 

Dear Sir, — A residence on a large plantation is to 
a Northerner rich with subjects of interest. Every 
thing is so different from what he has been accustomed 
to, his curiosity is continually excited by the novelties 
which are brought before him, or which he is running 
his face against. Eirst, there is the slave himself, his 
condition, his cabin, his dress, his manners, his labors, 
his amusements, his religion, his domestic relations ; then 
there is the plantation, with fences a mile apart, present- 
ing in one broad enclosure land enough to make a score 
of Yankee pastures ; then there is the cotton-plant, with 
its rich, pure, white, fleecy treasures, hanging to the ga- 
thering hand ; then there is the tobacco-plant, with its 
beautiful, tender, green leaf in spring, and its broad, 
palmetto-looking leaf in autumn, green lined with brown ; 
then there is the cotton-gin, with the negroes at work in 
it, the snowy cotton flying from the wind-fans in fleecy 
showers that mock a December snow-storm ! then there 
is the baling and screwing, the roping and marking with 
planter's name, all objects of interest to witness ; then 
there is the planter himself, so different in his manners, 
tastes, education, prejudices, notions, bearing, feelings, 
and associations, from the New England man ; then there 
is his lady, accustomed to have slaves attend upon the 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 223 

glance of her eye from childhood, coinmanding and direct- 
ing her large domestic establishmcntj where the food, 
clothing, comfort, and health sometimes of a hundred 
slaves depend upon her managing care ; then there is 
the son, who is raised half-hunter, half-rustic, with as 
much book learning as his pastimes in the field and wood 
will allow him to turn his attention to — the idol of the 
old negroes and the hope of the younger ones — who has 
never seen a city, but may one day walk Broadway, or 
Chestnut street, "a fine young Southern blood," with a 
fortune to spend, high-spirited, chivalrous, quick to re- 
sent an insult, too proud to give one, ready to fight for 
his lady-love or his country ! prone to high living and 
horse-racing, but at home courteous and hospitable as 
becomes a true country gentleman ; then there is the 
daughter of the house, too, a lovely girl, with beautiful 
hands, for she has never used them at harder work than 
tuning her harp, (and hardly at this, if she can trust her 
maid,) who rides like Di Vernon, is not afraid of a gun, 
nor^ eke ! a pistol, is inclined to be indolent, loves to 
write letters, to read the late poets, is in love with Byron, 
sings Jenny Lind's songs with great taste and sw^eetness, 
has taken her diploma at the Columbia Institute, or some 
other conservatory of hot-house plants, knows enough 
French to guess at it when she comes across it in an 
English book, and of Italian to pronounce the names of 
her opera songs ! she has ma's carriage at her command 
to go and come at her pleasure in the neighborhood, re- 
ceives long forenoon visits from young gentlemen who 
come on horseback, flirts at evening promenades on the 
piazza with others, and is married at sixteen without 
being courted ! 



224 THE SUNNY south; or, 

The manners and customs tlms cniimeratecl arc quite 
different from those at the North. Let me describe some 
of the more striking differences a little in detail. Who 
ever sees an old graj-headed gentleman, mounted on 
horseback, and a spirited horse at that, galloping along 
the road with a cigar in his mouth, in New England? 
Yet we never ride out that we don't meet one or more 
gray-headed planters, booted and spurred, — sometimes 
with a cloth cap on when the day is windy, — trotting to 
or from town at a slapping pace ; and followed by one 
or more dogs. You might ride all over the state of 
Connecticut or Massachusetts without seeing the like. 
There they drive about in chaises, or buggies, or carry- 
alls. Where at the north would we meet elegant coaches 
with plaited harness, and all the appointments rich and 
complete, drawn by a pair of mules ? Yet here it is an 
every day occurrence to see them, for mules here are 
highly esteemed. Where in the North would fashionable 
ladies ride mules ? Y^et here it is by no means uncommon 
for a handsome mule to be preferred, especially by timid 
persons. To what rural church on the Sabbath would 
every family come in its own carriage? Yet a private 
carriage stands outside of our church for every family 
in it. 

The customs, too, are different in respect to the license 
given to daughters. In the North the young lady is left 
alone with her beaux, and pa and her ma retire. In the 
South it is deemed indecorous for them to be left alone by 
themselves, and the mother or some member of the family 
is always in the room ; and if none of these, a female slave 
is seated on the rug at the door. This is a relic of the 
Spanish duenna system. Young girls are kept in very 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 225 

strict bounds by mammas in this respect ; and I was told by 
a married gentleman, a few days since, that his wife never 
took his arm till she took it to be led to church on her 
weddhig day; and that he never had an opportunity of 
kissing her but twice while he was addressing her, (they 
were six months engaged!) and in both cases by means 
of a stratagem he resorted to ^f drugging a peach with 
laudanum w^hich he gave to the attending servant, and 
thereby put her into a sound sleep. To tliis custom is 
to be attributed so many runaway matches. If the girls 
were confided in by their mothers, and suifered to see 
and become acquainted with those who address them, they 
would hardly elope. Freedom of intercourse would put 
an end to these clandestine marriages. I like, of the 
two customs, the Northern best; but both of them are 
carried too near the extreme. I know several young 
ladies in this vicinity who have told me that they were 
never for two hours out of sight of their mammas. 

This watchfulness, by and by, defeats its own aim. 
The lover is piqued, and begins to regard the whole 
matter as a fair field for strategy ; and instead of looking 
upon the mother of his future wife with respect and afiec- 
tion, he beholds in her an enemy, whom it would be a 
victory to circumvent. The daughter soon begins to look 
at it in the same view, and away they fly together to 
some Gretna Green. 

But runaway matches seem to be marked with Divine 
displeasure. I have never heard of a happy one. Not far 
from us resides a w^idow lady, who eloped from an excel- 
lent mother, "vyhen she was young, with a worthless young 
man. She is now the mother of three grown daughters, 

overy one of which has eloped and left her, the youngest 
15 



226 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

only last June, at fifteen years of age, and she is left 
desolate and broken-hearted ! Thus is the example of 
the mother followed by the children ; and whom can she 
blame but herself? But the worst remains to be told. 
The eldest has already been deserted by her husband, who 
has gone to California, and she last week had to seek 
shelter in the home of her childhood ; the second daugh- 
ter is suing for a divorce, though she has not been thir- 
teen months married. Ah, girls I never in an evil hour 
place your hand in that of the young man who would 
counsel you to desert your paternal home ! It is cruel 
to deprive those who have nourished you, and with sweet 
hope looked forward to the happy day of your honorable 
marriage beneath their own roof; it is cruel to rob them 
of the enjoyment of this happiness. It is tJieir right to 
give you to him who is the choice of your heart. It is 
their blessed privilege to bless your union, and witness 
your and your husband's joy. How can you then rob 
them of their participation in that joyous bridal, towards 
w^hich they have been so many years looking forward? 
Daughters who elope, wrest from their parents that 
crowning joy of a father's and a mother's life — the gra- 
tification of seeing; their daughter married at their own 
fireside ! A bridal elsewhere is unnatural, and God's 
blessing will not follow it. 

There is a custom here of kissing when ladies meet, 
that seems to me quite a waste of the "raw material," 
as some envious gentleman has remarked, doubtless some 
bachelor editor. You might see in Boston the meeting 
of one hundred pair of young ladies during the day, and 
not seven couple would salute each other on the lips. 
Yet in Tennessee all females kiss, old and young, even if 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 2i7 

they see each other as often as every day. 1 am ac- 
quainted with a teacher of young ladies here, Avho says 
that his schoLars all kiss when they meet in the morning ; 
and he has seen them when they enter late, in going past 
several girls to their seats, kiss every pair of lips they 
pass en route. At church doors of a Sunday there is 
quite a fusilade of this small arms. There is a warmth 
of feeling, a heartiness of affection, a tenderness of 
sympathy in the Southern ladies, that is the cause of all 
this. The Northern ladies are cold, without question. 
They are also better scholars where mere "book" is con- 
cerned. They have more comprehensive minds, and are 
more intellectually clever. Southern girls, from all ac- 
counts, make but poor book students. They have, how- 
ever, so much imagination and feeling, that they converse 
with brilliancy, appear well and under an indefinable 
grace, peculiar to them, can veil every scholastic defect. 
It is only when a lady takes up her pen that her real 
deficiencies of education are perceptible. If I were 
asked to judge of the acquirements of a young lady, I 
would say, "Let me see one of her letters!" I know 
a beautiful girl who confessed to Isabel the reason she did 
not answer a letter that she wrote to her from the Springs 
was, that "she did not know how to write a letter fit to 
be seen !" The truth is, the young lady was always in- 
dulo-ed at home : went or staid from school at her will ; 
reached fourteen without being able to spell correctly ; 
was then mortified to have her defects made known to 
her schoolmates, and refused to go to school longer. 
Her father is the Honorable Mr. , and she is exceed- 
ingly beautiful and interesting, and now eighteen years 
of age. The pen is all that will discover her deficiencies, 



228 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

and tliis she will probably never take in her hands ! 
Being brought up in a family of intelligent persons, she 
talks well ! Poor girl! what mortifications are before 
her ! If she is engaged to an intelligent man, and he 
should address her a letter during an absence, what ex- 
cuse can she offer for not replying? If she marry him, 
and he discover her imperfect education, how mortified 
will he be ! How humiliated she ! Yet it is her own fault ; 
and scores of girls in this country are walking in the 
same path. 

Last night, we were seated in the drawing room, lis- 
tening to Mr. Sargeant's fine song to Jenny Lind, sung 
by Isabel, and also set to music by her, when there was 
a sudden commotion among two or three young ladies 
present, and dodging, and screaming, and throwing hand- 
kerchiefs over their heads ! A hat was in the room I 
Isabel was too much occupied to know it, and kept on 
playing, while the velvet- winged bird of dusk darted in 
elegant curves through the upper air of the room with 
arrowy swiftness. It was almost impossible to follow his 
gyrations with the eye. Two young gentlemen present 
sat very stifily as if they expected to be hit ; and at last 
the bat darted directly across the piece of music before 
Isabel's eyes. In an instant she was in the middle of 
the room, with a handkerchief thrown over her hair, and 
uttering exclamations of slight terror. Here then were 
four ladies with their heads picturesquely^ covered with 
their lace kerchiefs, and two of the number hiding be- 
hind chairs, and a third behind the harp. 

"Bless me!" cried the colonel, "is it possible, girls, 
you are afraid of this bat ?" 

" To be sure ! Do call some one to drive it out !'* 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 229 

At this moment a second bat made its entree^ and be- 
tween the two, I thought the girls woiikl go wikl. Isa- 
bel, seeing her parasol, caught it, and opening it quickly 
sat down under it upon a low stool, awaiting the issue. 

"Thejare harmless!" cried the colonel. '' They do 
not fly in here to eat you, but mosquitoes, which they 
feed on!" 

"Oh, sir, they light upon the head," said the pretty 
brunette, behind the harp; "and if they once get in the 
hair, it all has to be cut off before it can be detached 
from it!" 

"They have barbs all over their wings and claws, 
colonel, indeed they have," said a blue-eyed girl, who 
was concealed under the piano cover; — "and if they — 
ah-h-h!" she shrieked out, as one of the bats swept past 
her forehead; and she quickly drew in her face, without 
waiting to finish what she was saying. 

"Where were you^ Kate?" I hear you ask, Mr. In- 
quisitive. 

I had been reading a story in the Knickerbocker 
Magazine, before Bel commenced singing; and still held 
the book on my lap; but I neither ran, screamed, nor 
covered my head ; for I had frequently received in my 
room such twilight visitors, and at first was a little ner- 
vous, as I had heard such terrible accounts of their 
lodging in the hair, and never being got out till the hair 
was cut ofi"; but as I never take marvelous stories on 
hearsay, I one evening, seeing that they did not harm 
me, watched the motions of three bats that were together 
disporting themselves in my chamber. I saw, after a 
few minutes' observation, that their movements, instead 
of being erratic and uncertain, and aimed to annoy me, 



230 THE suxNY south; or, 

were governed by some direct object in view. A little 
closer scrutiny enabled me to see that they were in pur- 
suit of mosquitoes, which flew about the room, and that 
every time they made a dart they caught one in their 
mouse-shaped jaws. 1 was greatly relieved from per- 
sonal apprehension when I had achieved this discovery; 
and I continued my writing as if they were not there, 
and soon forgot their presence. At length, when I had 
completed the letter I was writing to my midshipman 
brother in the Mediterranean, I looked for my "birds," 
and found that they had quietly disappeared. Since 
then I am a philosopher when a bat is in a room. 

The young ladies, however, being convinced that bats 
are animated combs flying about for a head to fasten in, 
would not be persuaded of the innocency of their inten- 
tions. The colonel, therefore, had to call in two or 
three servants, to drive them out, with brooms, riding- 
whips, and what not! But this only made the matter 
worse. The poor things, interrupted in their mosquito 
hawking, became terrified at these belligerent manifesta- 
tions, and sailed low to avoid the blows aimed at them 
in the air. In these escapades they darted under the 
piano, as a shriek from the blye-ey ed Kider testified ; and 
even beneath Isabel's parasol^ as a sudden scream from 
her bore witness. The girls were now in despair. The 
colonel and I sat laughing and looking on. At length 
it was resolved, as bats are said to follow lights, to take 
the two astral lamps out upon the piazza. The draTwdng- 
room was darkened in vain. It was the mosquitoes, not 
the lamps, that attracted them, and, if any thing, the 
idea of their flying about in there in the dark, only in- 
creased the terror of the terrified girls. Stir out them- 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 231 

selves the girls would not. The young gentlemen, in 
the meanwhile, were using their hats to try and knock 
the enemy down. Twice in the dark I felt the wind of 
their* noiseless wings upon my cheek. The lamps were 
ordered back, and with a hard battle two of the enemy 
were laid low, and the residue driven forth. 

"Now," said the colonel, after the girls had been 
twelve times assured that the bats Avere liors du combat, 
and incapable of acting as combs, either fine or coarse, 
side comb or back comb, and holding up to the lamp one 
of the dead mosquito hunters,— "I wish to convince 
you that these delicately-winged animals are not after 
you, and could do you no harm." 

Here he held up a bat to the light by its extended 
wincrs. The sight of it made blue eyes crawl, and the 
brunette utter an expression of detestation. • It was both 
ugly and pretty — its wings being transparent, and ele- 
gantly constructed, and its body like that of an over-fed 
mole. Its head was small, like a mouse's, and the 
colonel, opening its jaws, showed its sharp teeth, and a 
little pile of mosquitoes under its tongue. "You see 
what its food is!" he said. "The teeth are sharp, but 
the mouth is so small it couldn't bite even a child's finger. 
Now look at its claws. They are sharp and curved, to 
cling by; but the curve instead of being barbed, is a half 
circle ; and whatever the claw grasps can easily be re- 
leased from it." 

"But its wings. Look at the horrid thing's wing.-,! 

exclaimed blue eyes. 

"Well, let us examine its wings," said the colonel 
smiling. "You see that each angle where the joints 
articulate, is defended by a small hook — one on each 



232 THE SUNNY south; or, 

wing. These hooks are but the curve of three quarters 
of a circle; and if a bat should light upon any one of 
your heads, and hang there by these two hooks, he could 
easily be disengaged without sacrificing one silken strand 
thereof. Let me try it, Bel!" 

But Isabel fled, and so did the rest. A negro boy's 
wooly caput being at hand, the colonel placed the bat 
upon his crispy poll, and haying made the wings take 
their strongest hold, he showed us how easily the hold 
could be removed, even from such tangled locks. "■ The 
use of these hooks," he added, " is for the bats to hang 
to each other by in winter, when they swarm together 
like a cluster of bees, and in huge masses, many feet 
in circumference, remain in torpid suspension until 
spring." 

The young ladies at length professed themselves satis- 
fied, and the colonel made each one pledge herself never 
to run from a bat, or cover her head again if a bat came 
into the room. 

Mr. Sargeant's beautiful and patriotic song was then 
resumed and finished, and many others, and the evening, 
which had been so ludicrously interrupted, passed ofi" 
without further incidents. 

Yours respectfully, 

Kate. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 233 



LETTER XXYIII. 

Mr : 

My Dear Sir, — As you were so kind as to express 
a wish that I should write for you a series of traveling 
letters on my route South, and during my sojourn in the 
land of " mocking-birds and sunny skies," I commence 
then my first letter, which like all ''first letters" and 
prefaces, I fear will be wofully dull. It having been 
decided at the Park, some weeks ago, in full council as- 
sembled in the colonel's library, that we should all go to 
New Orleans, preparations were forthwith set on foot. 

You must know, that the colonel takes a trip every 
year to this great Southern emporium to look after the 
sales of his cotton and tobacco, which generally precedes 
him some days, but he usually goes alone. On this oc- 
casion, however, there was to be an attraction in New 
Orleans, such as it or any other city could have but once 
in an age. Jenny Lind was to be there in February ! 
Therefore, Isabel won her father's consent by dint of 
coaxing and pretty teazing, and, as I am never left out 
of any party of pleasure, "Kate must go too." 

It was a propitious morning when the family coach 
drove up to the portico of the mansion to receive us, 
and, I was going to add, "our baggage." But that was 
so enormous in magnitude, the baggage of two girls, 
that old black Peter with two mules harnessed into his 



234 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

red wagon, took it to town in advance of us — having 
started at the peep of day. All the house servants came 
out and gathered round the carriage to see us off. The 
colonel shook hands with all the old ones, and Isabel 
kissed Aunt Nannie, her old African nurse, and also her 
mother's nurse before her, wdiile tears filled the beautiful 
eyes of the maiden, at the genuine grief of the old woman 
at parting with her. 

"Take good keer o' your dear blessed self. Miss 
Bella," she said, sobbing as if her ebony heart would 
break in two, '' an' don't forget old aunty what lub you 
better dan she lub de life in her own oV body. Don't 
fall into de ribber, and may de Lord bring you and 
massa and Missy Katy all back to us safe an' sound!" 

There was an interesting parting aside, between 
Charles, the colonel's body servant, who was mounted 
on a fine -horse to follow us, and his young wife Mary; 
and also a tender leave-taking between Isabel's dressing 
maid, Clara, and a dark Romeo, to whom she was be- 
trothed, and for her marriage with w^hom Isabel had pro- 
mised to purchase her a wedding dress in New Orleans. 

After the parting with the servants was over, George, 
the coachman, at a signal from his master, flourished his 
long lash over his horses' ears, and away w^e went roll- 
ing rapidly from the door along the smoothly-graveled 
avenue. The very birds seemed to sing us "good bye" 
as we trotted down the glades of old trees which were 
vocal with their notes. The last thing I caught sight 
of was my pet-deer thrusting her meek face over the pad- 
dock, looking wistfully after the carriage, and evidently 
having an intelligent understanding of the whole matter, 
that I was going away to leave her for a long time. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 235 

Perhaps, however, I had fully made her to comprehend 
this before I got into the carriage ; for the first thing in 
the morning I went round and took, a ceremonious and 
touching leave, (don't you be so hard-hearted as to smile, 

Mr. ), of all my pets. I said a few kind words to 

my squirrels, fed and patted my rabbits, embraced the 
shao-cry neck of, and almost kissed, old Bruin, a famous 
large black dog, with an eye and a gravity like Daniel 
Webster, and a voice like a lion ; and the pony I did kiss, 
and I do believe that the poor, gentle-hearted animal's 
large brown eyes filled with tears at the farewell tones 
of my voice. He seemed to comprehend as clearly as 
if he had been a human being, that I came to say good- 
bye. He rubbed his white face against my shoulder, and 
followed me to the gate, and when I shut it against him, 
there was a look of sorrow in his eyes that deeply moved 
me. 

What a mystery a brute creature is ! Have you not 
seen a horse, or a deer, or a dog, act as if a human soul 
were within its body, and all that was wanted was the 
gift of speech to express its love, and hands to embrace 
you with all the tenderness of friendship ? — nay, only a 
human form to be your faithful, true, and loving friend 
and companion. I cannot believe that the souls of brutes 
perish forever ! God must doubtless have for them a 
paradise fitted for their enjoyment, and adapted to their 
highest capability of happiness. The Bible has certainly 
said, " God shall save both man and beast." 

Are there not among the countless worlds of stars, and 
in the boundless space of the illimitable universe, place 
and space for all God's creatures to live and be happy 
in ? Shall not the noble horse, doomed to the lash and 



236 THE SUNNY south; oh, 

dray all his life, have compensation in a universe ruled 
hy a God of equity ? Wise men say that this earth, 
and all things thereon, from man down to the lowest 
form of life, is a type of Heaven. If, then, in the world 
to come, there are " spirits of men," there must be "souls 
of brutes," and a spiritual form of everything material. 
But this is too profound a theme for a young woman's 

pen, Mr. ; but if my words here written will only 

cause some to look more kindly upon brutes, I shall be 
glad that I have given my ideas " shapes and sen- 
tences." 

I have already written of the beautiful scenery which 
spreads away, on either hand, from the turnpike that 
conducts to the city ; of the pleasant villas, noble, na- 
tural parks in all their aboriginal grandeur, and sweet 
cottages here and there embowered in foliage by the road- 
side. I have, also, in a former letter, spoken of Nash- 
ville, of its architectural elegance, of the beauty of its 
females, the bevies of lovely school-misses that throng 
the streets, the chivalry of the gentlemen, and the hos- 
pitality of all. I shall, therefore, not detain you there, 

Mr. , but drive you at once to the superb steamer 

* 'America," which, on our arrival in town, was lying at 
the upper landing, awaiting her passengers. If you have 
never seen a Western boat, you have yet to behold the 
most majestic and comfortable river-steamer afloat. 
They are constructed and arranged on a plan entirely 
different from the boats on the Eastern waters. They 
are all, also, high pressure ; and our steamer was, at in- 
tervals, bellowing and roaring from her escape pipe with 
a muttering and condensed power, which showed how 
terrible is the strength of pent up steam. Having 



THE SOUTIIERXER AT HOME. 287 

reached the quay, which was covered with enormous hogs- 
heads of tobacco and cotton-bales, which the negroes, in 
getting them on board, handled with great dexterity by 
means of iron hooks, — making our way through this up- 
roar of commerce, for commerce is very noisy, all the 
w^orld over, with its thundering w^heels and ''heave-o- 
yeo !" we gained the stage which led on board. We were 
met at the landing by a polite and handsome clerk, 
who, with the utmost courtesy, escorted our party to the 
cabin. This was the first large steamer I had been 
on board of, and my surprise at its vastness and splendor 
was no doubt visible in my face. We first entered 
the boat, not as in the East, near the stern, but at the 
bows ! 

We were then conducted up a broad flight of stairs to 
the upper deck, which was a spacious portico or vestibule 
to the forward saloon. This portico, or ''forward guard," 
as it is called, is a fine spacious promenade, and has, 
withal, room enough in the centre of it to accommodate 
a parapet of trunks, which rose like a wall, dividing it 
in halves. We thence entered the saloon, and passed a 
glittering " bar" on one side, and a range of state-rooms 
for the captain and his clerks, on the other, all fitted 
up with elegance and taste. Beyond this, for a vast dis- 
tance, extended the main cabin, which, as we traversed 
it, seemed to be endless. On either side were handsome 
doors, placed at regular intervals, leading into state-rooms. 
The whole was richly carpeted, hung with superb chan- 
deliers, and adorned with the most costly furniture. 
After we had walked about a hundred feet, as I should 
guess, we, at length, through a suit of lofty folding doors, 
reached the ladies' cabin, which was full one-third the 



238 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

length of the main cabin, and more tastefully adorned. 
Sofas, a piano, lounges, rocking-chairs, marble tables, 
chandeliers, and candelabras, made up the several details 
of the whole. Still farther beyond were doors opening 
upon a noble verandah, the breadth of the whole stern of 
the boat, and overhanging the water. 

This verandah, as I afterwards saw, extended quite 
around the boat, on both sides, and uniting with the por- 
tico on the bow, made a continuous and delightful pro- 
menade, broad and roomy, for several hundred feet, 
entirely around the whole extent of the boat. It is these 
verandahs which add such comfort to the Western boats, 
and make traveling on them so delightful. In descend- 
ing the rivers, one can sit or lounge on them all day, 
watching the scenery, instead of being enclosed in the 
cabins. 

There is another agreeable peculiarity of these boats, 
which, as we are to travel together some days on one, I 
wish you to understand: it is that the cabins are all 
above the main deck, raised on double rows of columns 
high above all the freight, and all the "disagreeables" 
of those parts of the boat where the hands and the emi- 
grants stay. 

There are properly on this upper deck three distinct 
cabins, all on the same floor, opening one into the other 
by folding doors; the forward one, "the Social Hall," 
or smoking cabin, where the card-playing, wine-drink- 
ing, and politics, go on. The next is the main cabin, 
used as a drawing-room and dining-room ; and the third 
is the Ladies' cabin. In the day time, these three cabins 
are thrown into one, by rolling back the broad leaves of 
the suits of doors, and the eoup d' ceil from one end to 



THE SOUTIIERNETl AT HOME. 239 

the other is very fine ; and so distant is the view, that 
one can hardly recognize an acquaintance who is at the 
remote extremity. 

The interior of our cabin is painted white, enamelled, 
and polished as marble. The sides are ornamented by 
rows of pilasters with gilded capitals, between every two 
of which is a richly ornamented door, leading into a 
state-room. Every state-room has a door, not only from 
the cabin into it, but a door that opens out upon the 
broad verandah, or guard, that environs the boat. This 
arrangement is very convenient, both for comfort and in 
case of • danger. At evening it was pleasant, as one 
walked up and down the long verandah, to see the occu- 
pants of the state-rooms sitting in their doors, conversing 
or looking at the scenery, like dwellers on a fashionable 
street. 

Besides this extensive walk, there are stairs that give 
access to the "hurricane deck," which is the roof of the 
whole boat, and as it is but very slightly convex, and 
wholly unobstructed by freight, and covered with a 
water-proof composition, which is sanded, it forms one 
of the most desirable and charming twilight promenades 
one can well imagine ; and what is more, a promenade in 
full motion, and under weigh, passing every moment new 
features in the landscape. 

You will thus perceive that, so far as accommodations 
and comforts, to say nothing of luxury, is concerned, 
one of these first class Western steamers afibrds the 
very perfection of interior voyaging. I have not yet 
spoken of our state-rooms, which were not so much state- 
rooms as superb apartments with broad-curtained beds, 



240 THE SUNNY SOUTH: OR 



and marble and mahogany furniture, and as complete as 
rooms in a "first rate" hotel. 

It was on board this floating palace that our party 
took passage for New Orleans, usually a six or seven 
days' voyage, the distance being about fifteen hundred 
miles. It was late in the day when the last passenger, 
the last bell, the last clerk, and the last plank, came on 
board, and the dashing of the monster wheels, as they 
revolved in starting, took the place of the muttering 
thunder of the suppressed steam, and the signal tolling 
of the heavy bell, which for an hour had risen above, yet 
mingling with all the other sounds and uproars of the 
quay. We are now fairly under weigh, and I bid you 
"good night." 

Respectfully, yours, 

Kate. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 241 



LETTER XXIX. 

Steamer "America," Ohio River. 



My Dear Mr. 



This is our third day en voyage. How delightful 
this mode - of traveling, surrounded by all the enchant- 
ments of an elegant home, as we are in this floating pal- 
ace! The manner in which we pass our time is more 
like that of so many guests in a nobleman's villa, could 
you imagine one floating down the Belle Riviere^ as the 
French missionaries, who first launched their light canoes 
upon its tide, picturesquely designated the Ohio. But I 
have learned the true Indian name for the river, which 
is far prettier than that given by the good father Hen- 
nepin. It is Ohi-o-lee-pee-chinn, or, put together, Ohio- 
lepechin. It sounds sweetly and musically, and it means 
exactly what the French name does, "River of Beauty." 

Not far above us is the celebrated Pirate's Cave on 
the bank, its dark mouth half-concealed by over-hanging 
trees. It is a romantic spot, and with the adjacent 
scenery of clifi", woodland, and river, would form a pic- 
ture, if justice were done it, striking enough to hold no 
mean rank in the galleries of your Art Union, that enor- 
mous Beaux Arts Lottery. 

This cavern had in former times a very naughty repu- 
tation. Some romantic fellow, with a score of reckless 
followers, held possession of it for many months before 
16 



242 THE SUNNY south; or, 

the introduction of steamers on the river, and levied black 
mail on all the descending and ascending trading boats. 
Many a tale of hard contests between the parties is told 
in the vicinity, and some of these legends are sufficiently 
stirring and wild, to have captivated even the magical 
pen of Cooper. 

The shores of the river are varied as we descend from 
the Cumberland, by rock and woodland, and many a 
lonely nook where one would love to dwell in some sweet 
cottage was presented to the eye as we steamed past. 
Towards noon we approached the mouth of the Ohio. 
The river now widened and expanded its bosom every 
league, as if it would give the Father of Waters, as it 
neared him, a false idea of its greatness, as small men 
always stretch up and stand on tip-toe when they talk 
with a tall man. 

"You've never sailed down this river afore, Miss, I 
guess," said, respectfully, an elderly man, with long, 
gray hair floating over the shaggy collar of his coarse, 
blue overcoat, who was standing near me on the upper 
deck, as I was gazing upon the shores, and straining my 
vision to behold the distant Mississippi. 

" This is the first time, sir," I answered. 

" So I thought the way you look at every thing. Miss,'* 
he answered. " I have been up and down too often to 
find any thing new in the 'Hio, or Massissippi either, 
for that matter. The first time I was on this river was 
in eighteen hundred and three." 

" So long ago !" I repeated. " This was before the 
time of steamboats." 

" Lor' bless you. Miss, steamboats wasn't then thought 
on. We used to go in them days in keelboats and flats ; 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 243 

and a pesky long voyage it was to Orleens then, and as 
for coming up, I've done in six days in a steamboat what 
thirty years agone it took me six months to do ; that is, 
come up from Orleens to Louisville. Steam is a mighty 
'vention, marm, but it blows up a mighty sight o' people !" 

Here the old pilot, for such he was, took a flat cake 
of tobacco from his pocket, wrapped up in a dingy piece 
of oil-cloth, *' to keep the strength in," as he said, tore a 
flake of it ofi" with his thumb and forefinger with a skill- 
ful but indescribable movement of the hand, thrust it 
into his jaws, and deliberately returned the cake to his 
huge pocket. 

"It must have been safe and pleasant voyaging in 
those days," I remarked. 

"Yes, Miss, it was tol'rable. But it was mighty 
slow. Then we had our dangers to run. Thar was the 
snags, agen which our boat would sometimes run and 
get turned over or sunk ; there was the bars we'd get 
onto, and lay there till the boat rotted ; there was the 
wild Indians, as sometimes used to shoot us ofi" when we 
ran too near the shore, and then down in the low coun- 
try there was them Spanish and French desperattys, as 
used to dart out of the creeks and bayous, twenty black- 
lookin' chaps in a long snakish-looking boat, all armed, 
and attack us and rob us if we didn't fight hard to save 
our plunder. Then a'ter a three months' voyage down, 
we'd be took with the yaller fever in Orleens an' die, or 
we'd lose all our money a gamblin', for we boatmen them 
days played cards dreadful bad, and lost a mint o' mo- 
ney in Orleens." 

" You must prefer steamboating, then, to this old way 
of trading," I said. 



244 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

'' Wall, I don't know 'bout that, Miss ! I like both 
on 'em, but if had mj choice I'd rather keclboat it. 
Old times, to my notion, is the best times. I don't see 
as men or the world is any better for steamboats, and 
railroads, and the telegraphy, and such things. One 
thing I know, it's a mighty deal wickeder world than 
wdien I was a boy !" 

Here we passed a few houses forming a hamlet, and 
landing, on the right bank. Upon asking my communi- 
cative friend what place it was, he answered : 

" That, marm, is Trinity, six miles from the mouth. 
Do you see that tall sycamore, the tree with the bark 
white as your handkerchief eenamost, that stands just 
under that bank?" 

^' Yes ; it is a very large and noble monarch of the 
forest," I answered, as I gazed upon one of the most 
magnificent trees I have ever seen, beneath the shade 
of which a regiment might have reposed. 

" I don't know about monarchs. Miss ! This is a free 
country, and we don't 'How even our trees to have kings. 
There is a grave beneath that tree !" he added, impres- 
sively. " You can't see it, nor I nuther, for it's all 
smoothed and over-growed long ago ; but right under it 
lies buried a young woman, wdiich I never see that tree 
without thinking of her, and wonderin' who she was. 
She was not more nor twenty, but she had seen sorrow 
and trouble enough for a lifetime. We took her on 
board forty years ago it will be next month, at Louis- 
ville. She was dressed as a young lad, but none of us 
guessed she was a w^oman. She spoke broken English, 
said she wanted to work her way to Orleens. So we 
put her to cookin'. She was so gentle and kind-spoken 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 245 

we all liked him, I mean her. But one morning when 
the day broke, just as we were floating down about here, 
we found her lying dead on the front part of the boat, 
with a dagger buried in her heart. It was a small dag- 
ger, with a silver hilt, sich as I had seen in Orleens 
among them pesky Spaniards. We didn't know who did 
it. But we buried her there. I dug the grave myself. 
There was foul play somewhere. One of our people 
said he had heard something swimming about the boat 
in the dark, but supposed it was a deer crossing the 
river, as they often did in them days, and there was 
prints of a man's wet feet upon the boards of the deck, 
and I always believed some enemy had followed her 
down the river, and swum off and murdered her. But 
it's always been a mystery to me ; but no doubt it'll all 
turn up, marm, at judgment-day !" 

Here the boat rounded to for the purpose of taking on 
board some passengers, and the pilot left me; but I stood 
and gazed long and silently and sadly upon the green 
grave of the beautiful stranger, whose secret, as the pilot 
had said, was locked up with God. It was a quiet, 
shaded spot. A wild grape vine had festooned itself 
above the grassy bed of the wanderer, and a few wild 
flowers grew upon it. Ah! indeed, how many secrets 
will the judgment day reveal ! 

How profoundly the unknown slept ! The hoarse roar 
of the escaping steam, the shouts of the voices of the 
crew, the oaths of the mate, the dashing of the huge 
wheels into the water, the hurry, bustle, and confusion — 
how they all contrasted with the unbroken stillness of that 
green spot, which death had made sacred ! As our boat 
resumed her way, I lingered with my eyes upon the 



246 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

grave, above which, perched upon the grape vine, a robin 
had alighted and was singing. Sweet suiferer of a former 
day ! Though forty years have passed, thou art not for- 
gotten ! Thy memory, cherished in the rough bosom of 
the old pilot, shall live in many hearts to whom my feeble 
pen shall relate thy brief, sad history. Many a loving 
heart and sympathizing bosom shall feel and beat in 
kindly sympathy for thee, as thou reposest in thy lonely 
grave beside the murmuring tide of the River of Beauty. 

At this moment, while I was still gazing on the snowy- 
armed sycamore, a fashionable young gentleman, who 
had been made acquainted with us, approached me, and 
said, with a glance of contempt towards the old pilot : 

"What rude fellar was that. Miss Conyngham, that 
presumed to address you without an introduction, as I 
presume you had not the honor of his acquaintance? 
You must pardon the ignorance of these Western men ! 
They are quite beyond all forms of good society ! Didn't 
he annoy you excessively?" 

'' On the contrary, I was much interested in his con- 
versation," I answered, with some point in my tones. 
" He has ideas.'' 

"Ah! ideas?" repeated the exquisite, who had sense 
enough to comprehend what I wished him to appre- 
hend, "you are inclined to be severe, Miss Conyngham. 
But, Miss Isabel says you are a wit." 

" Indeed ! You should be obliged to her for giving you 
,he information, for you know wits are very dangerous 
people to some folks." 

"Yes, I'm afraid of witty people," he answered, finger- 
ing his glossy whiskers, and then smoothing the glossy 
silk of his hat. "Do you know, Miss Conyngham, that 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 247 

there is a new style of hat coming into fashion? The 
brim is to be an inch wider than this— which is the latest 
style, and it is to turn up slightly, just the least bit in 
the world, all round, even in front! And the band is to 
be full two inches wide. You see what an effect this 
will produce ! This band is but an inch and a quarter. 
And then the hat is to bell out full at the top I It strikes 
me that it will be a superb affair. But more than all, it 
is made of such material as to contract or expand to the 
head of the wearer, fitting each bump perfectly, so as to 
give no uneasiness; but, so far as that is concerned, I 
never experienced any uneasiness from this: my head is 

nicely balanced. Dr. Dr. what's his name? 

—once passed his fingers over my head, and pronounced 
it a model of equilibrium. If I have one bump, Miss, 
more prominent than another, I conceive that it is — is 
combativeness. Yes, I have a great belligerent pro- 
pensity. But it is kept in check by an equal amount of 
prudence; otherwise, I have no doubt, I should have 
fought not one less than forty duels in my life! I see, 
Miss, you are admiring my watch seal," (which the ex- 
quisite was twirling and trying to make me notice). " It 
is of California gold, solid ! So is the chain. Had it 
made to order!— This massive ring, too, is—" 

Here the old pilot returned, and said abruptly, without 
taking any notice of the person talking to me, 

"You see. Miss, that little clump of trees on that 
knoll to the left?" and he pointed with his large, brown 

hand. 

The fop looked daggers at him ! But there was a calm 
self-possession— a certain native dignity about the rough- 
coated old pilot, that commanded his respect and over- 



248 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

awed his combativeness, or I don't know what horrid 
scene might have ensued, unless the bump of "prudence" 
should come in to counteract the predisposition to com- 
bativeness. Prudence did its duty I The exquisite, 
after trying to annihilate the old river Neptune with a 
look which was lost on him, turned away with an equal 
contempt in his equally-balanced mind both for me and 
the pilot. 

"Ill-bred ! Vulgar tastes !" I heard him mutter, as 
he moved off, — terms of his indignation, which were 
doubtless intended to be divided equally between my 
friend in the shaggy pilot coat and myself. 

The clump of trees were peculiar and marked by their 
isolated position, standing in advance of the rest of the 
shore, quite down into the water. 

" I see them, sir!" I answered. 

"There is a different story I could tell you about 
them ;" he said, as if alluding mentally to what he had 
narrated about the sycamore tree. 

"I should like to hear it !" I replied. 

" It ain't a long one. Few words and to the point," 
he answered, as he pulled off a fresh flake of tobacco 
from the diminished mass which he carried wrapped up in 
the oilskin. " I saw three men shot by the shortest of 
them trees ; under that ere limb that hangs partly over 
the water." 

"Shot !" I repeated, with horror. 

"Nothing less. Miss ; it was during the war with the 
English. Some troops were going to New Orleans to 
help Jackson, and three of 'em deserted and were caught, 
tried, and shot there, all in one hour, by Col. Mead, the 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 249 

officer who commanded the fleet of boats. They were 
buried under that red bank thar ! One of 'em was a 
mere lad ! He prayed for his widowed mother, that the 
Great God above would give her strength to bear the 
news, and then, while the tears shone on his cheeks, he 
bared his white breast to the guns, and the next moment, 
six bullets were tearing up the tender flesh and crashing 
into his body. He fell dead ! But one of the others 
leaped his height into the air with a fearful oath, and 
then ran for the river to jump in : but he fell dead on 
the grass. Ah, Miss, still and quiet as that pretty little 
clump of trees looks now, with the birds a singing in it, 
it has witnessed scenes you'd hardly have guessed if you 
hadn't been told. Jist so it is, marm, with human natur. 
You see a man walking quiet-like, and with a steady lip 
and eye among his fellows ; but if he should tell you what 
he had gone through in his day, you would see that, 
though thpre are pleasant groves like in his heart, and 
the birds sing in them, scenes have passed there that 
would make us sad if they were told us. 

'' But, Miss, here we are close at the mouth of the 
Ohio, and in a few minutes will be in the Mississippi. 
If you'd like to get a better look of the grand sight of 
the meetin' of the two greatest rivers in America, you'd 
better go forward, and up into the pilot house, for it is 
the highest part of the boat, and you can see wider and 
farther." 

I thanked my new friend, and sending for Isabel and 
the colonel, I was escorted by the hardy old river man, 
with a politeness that exquisites might imitate, to the 
elevated throne, standing upon whicJi the helmsman go- 



250 THE SUNNY south; or, 

verns the movements and directs the course of our mighty 
steamer. 

In my next, I shall endeavor to give you my impres- 
sions of " The Meeting of the Waters." 

Yours, 
Kate. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 251 



LETTER XXX. 



Dear Mr. : 

How shall I describe to you the profound impression of 
bublimity, so that you may have some adequate conception 
of it, which the sight of the "meeting of the waters" had 
upon me yesterday ? To see the union of the Missis- 
sippi and Ohio is worth a voyage thus far. It is one of 
the sublimest spectacles a traveler chances to meet with. 

Everything was propitious to present to our view the 
junction in all its grandest features. Both rivers were 
of equal height : the Mississippi dark and turbid, the 
Ohio clear and of a green tint. As our steamer entered 
upon the last mile of the Ohio, I could see with a glass, 
with which my good friend, the pilot, provided me, the 
line which marked the boundary between the two 
waters. As we drew nearer and nearer, and at length 
passed out from between the arms of the Ohio into the 
bosom of the Father of Waters, I was surprised and de- 
lighted to find that we still were borne on the tide of the 
former, although fairly within the shores of the latter. 

For nearly two miles after we had entered the Missis- 
sippi, we kept in the green waters of the Belle Riviere, 
which, pushing and compressing the murky flood of the 
other to half its breadth, contested the right of way to 
the mile-broad channel with it. The line between the 
waters that flowed from the Alleghanies and those which 



252 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

had come from the Rocky Mountains was distinctly pre- 
served for a long distance by their different hues ; and 
in order to gratify Isabel, the helmsman, at one time, 
steered so that we sailed directly on the line of demarka- 
tion — the green tinted waves of the Ohio being on our 
left, and the muddy, brown waves of the Mississippi being 
on the right — the keel of our steamer dividing them 
equally. 

But after we had descended about two miles, the supe- 
rior strength of the Mississippi began to show itself. 
The old Father of Rivers, as if he had merely out of 
courtesy suffered the Belle Ohio to occupy his channel 
for a little while, now began to assert his claims to the 
whole breadth between the banks. Here and there the 
turbid under current would force itself up to the surface 
of the waters of the Ohio, and exhibit everywhere great 
circular patches of floating mud. These soon flowed to- 
gether and commingled ; and at length the green current 
of the Belle Riviere became all muddy and turbid, lost its 
individuality, and was absorbed in the mighty rolling 
flood, whose domain it fain would have held in copart- 
nership. It was full a league below the mouth before 
the union was so complete that we lost the last trace of 
the peculiar tint of the lesser and clearer stream. It 
was wonderful to see how completely one vast river had 
been swallowed up by another; and yet neither had the 
huge gormandizer grown larger, widened his banks, or 
deepcTied his channels ; and so this mammoth of rivers 
goes on to the sea, a thousand miles southward, taking 
in a score of rivers at a yawn, and never showing signs 
of his voraciousness ! 

"Now, Miss," said the old pilot, who seemed greatly 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 253 

to enjoy my admiration of the spectacle, "now we are 
fairly on the Mississippi ! You'll find it a wild water, 
marm; and the shores al'ays keep the same as you see 
'em now, — forests, and notJiing else. Five hundred 
miles farther down you'll see no difference. A picture 
of the river taken here, and one after we 've sailed on 
it three days more, will look both exactly alike ; it would 
take a man pretty well used to the river, if he was taken 
up from one place, and put in another a hundred miles 
farther down, to know he'd changed places." 

The sun set with a splendor that I have never before 
beheld. The river at the time was flowing west for full 
five miles in a straight line, and the wdiole distance, 
illumined redly by the sun at the end of the vista, shone 
like a burnished lake of gold; while the black forests on 
either shore formed a fine frame to the whole. These 
^'reaches" and bends of the river, which it forms every 
few leagues as it flows now west, now east, now doubling 
back northwardly, gives the Mississippi the character of 
a chain of lakes, each from three to seven miles long, 
and always the unvarying breadth of about four thou- 
sand feet. 

There is something terrific, as well as majestic in this 
vast moving flood. Its surface is never quiet. Repose 
it knows not. It is agitated by myriads of whirlpools, 
and here and there rushes along without any apparent 
cause, with additional velocity, and a roar like rapids ; 
yet there are nothing like rocks in its bed, and its depth 
is fearful everywhere. I had heard that a person falling 
into it, would never rise again. I therefore questioned 
my friend the pilot upon this interesting point. 

''They do say so, Miss," politely answered a hale old 



254 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

man who was ^steering, and removing liis quid from his 
mouth out of respect to me, and thrusting it for safe 
keeping into the cuff of his drab jacket, the stained look 
of which showed that it was an ordinary reception place 
for such things; ^'but it an't al'ays true, 'cept in high 
top floods. Then I'd be sorry to fall overboard. Most 
usual there is an under current as sucks a man right 
down, and before he can battle agen it and get up to the 
top, its all over with him. Besides, the water is al'ays 
so muddy, it chokes up a man 'mazin' quick. But in. 
low water, w^hy a man can swim tolerable fair in this 
river; but its better to keep on board if he can, and not 
tempt it ; for old Massassap is a mighty ugly customer to 
trust oneself to, at any time, — 'mazin' treacherous and 
oncertain !" 

Although the evening shades fell, and the supper bell 
rung, I could not leave the deck. The western sky was 
a paradise of glory, a heaven tinted with every hue of 
beauty. Amid a clear space of pure green^ the evening 
star hung like an amethyst set in emerald. The waters 
shone like living gold. The gloomy shores grew darker 
and more mysterious. The stars came out overhead. 
From our tw^o tall black chimneys rolled, billow on bil- 
low, sable clouds of smoke mixed with sparks, which, as 
they covered the skies over us, gave one an idea of the 
heavens on fire, and the stars loosened from their spheres. 
The regular boom of the breathing engine echoing from 
shore to shore, the dash of the monstrous w^heels creating 
a continual foaming cataract, w^hich, mingling astern, 
formed a mad wake of whirlpools — the onward, life-like, 
ever-pressing-forward motion of the swift steamer, which 
carried me with two hundred other souls through all this 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 255 

scene of novel beauty and strange grandeur, bound me 
to the deck, and forbade my thoughts and soul turning 
to anything else. 

At length night, in all the glittering glory of her 
starry beauty, reigned. Leaning upon the arm of the 
colonel, while Isabel hung upon the other, I walked the 
upper deck till a late hour. Showers of sparks were 
sailing away in the air every moment, and some of them, 
keeping their brightness longer than others, we loved to 
imagine shooting stars, which they closely resembled. 
Many would descend in graceful curves to the surface of 
the river far astern, and, lighting upon it, be at once 
extinofuished. Others would ascend and move in a 
spiral path higher and higher, as if they fain would scale 
heaven, and take their place among the fixed stars, 
which looked no bigger than they. We also amused 
ourselves in watching the w^oodmen's lights on the shore 
— large fires built at the points where wood for steam- 
ers was to be found. These signal fires, which were 
visible on both sides from a mile to a league apart, 
had a fine effect upon the imagination. It seemed as if 
our midnight way was voluntarily lighted by some kind 
beings of the main who wished us "good luck" on our 
voyage, and desired that w^e should prosecute it in safety. 
The pilot related to the colonel a very remarkable use 
which he once made of these lights on the shore. 

"We were coming up from Orleans in a thick fog," 
said he. "The night was dark as pitch. We could not 
land in safety, as it blew hard. Our only chance was to 
keep in the middle of the stream and run for it. These 
woodmen at that time did not light their signal fires till 
they heard a boat ring her bell, as a token that it wanted 



256 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

wood. You would then see a score of fires kindled along 
a stretcli of four miles or so. We could discern no fires 
to guide us, or tell us where either shore was ; so I rang 
the bell as a signal for wooding. The next minute a fire 
blazed up through the fog on the left bank, quarter of a 
mile ahead; and a half a mile above upon the other shore, 
shone another like a star in the dog-days. By these we 
were enabled to steer; and every quarter of an hour I 
tolled my bell, as I ascended the river, and fire after fire 
would blaze up, one on this shore, one on that. In this 
w^ay we ran all night, full a hundred miles, lighted by 
these signal fires, which we made these poor fellows 
kindle, supposing we were coming in to take in wood ; 
but the rogues ought to have done us this service, as they 
live and get rich by steamboats." 

It was late when we left the deck to return to oar 
state-rooms. During the night I was awakened by the 
noise of a steamer passing us. Looking from my state- 
room door, I saw its red-mouthed furnaces glare through 
the gloom, lighting up half the river's breadth, the dark 
figures of the firemen looking like so many demons as 
they cast the fuel into them. It was a magnificent sight, 
and a fearful one, to see the huge, roaring, dashing, 
booming, thundering monster go past, with noise enough 
to awake the Seven Sleepers, while the shores and the 
sides of our vessel re-echoed and redoubled the sublime 
uproar. The next moment she was past, and darkness 
and a rocking motion succeeded. I observed at the bow 
of the boat two fiery red lanterns, elevated on high, 
which serve as guides to the pilot, and to show the posi- 
sition of the boat to other pilots in the night. Our boat 
has a blue and a crimson one. Unaccustomed to the 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 257 

motion and working of the machinery, it was long past 
midnight ere I was able to fall to sleep. 

This morning we found ourselves at New Madrid, once 
the capital of the Spanish empire of the West, but now 
a hamlet of a few houses. The place has been destroyed 
by an earthquake, and what remains of it is falling into 
the river by detachments. Street after street has broken 
off and gone, until but one remains. The whole country 
is deeply fissured by the shocks which occur every few 
wrecks. We learn that ten days ago there was so severe 
a one that an acre of the front of the tovv-n fell into the 
river, and chairs and tables in houses were throYv'n down. 
Such, however, is the force of habit, and "getting ac- 
customed to shaking," as the man said vrho had the ague 
twenty-four years, that the citizens do not mind these 
shocks; but take them as they come, as they do the 
storms and wind, and the other ordinary phenomena of 
nature. 

We had a very amusing scene occur this morning, just 
before day! There is a young bear on board, belonging 
to a Missourian, who is taking him down to Arkansas, to 
his sweetheart, he told me. The "exquisite" had evinced 
some apprehension about him, and expressed it to me 
more than ence, that he feared he might "get loose and 
perpetrate some mischief." 

Well, sure enough, at daylight this morning, the wdiole 
cabin was aroused by such an uproar and screaming as 
3^ou never heard! "The bear! the bear! the bear is in 
my state-room!" was shrieked in tones of mortal horror. 

Upon flying to the scene of terror and to the rescue, it 
proved to be, that a gentleman, who from a paralytic 
stroke has not for several years been able to speak, was 
1-^ 



258 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OK, 

now on his way to the Hot Springs to endeavor to effect 
a cure. But there are times when, if he attempts to 
laugh he sends forth the most appalling spasmodic sounds, 
between a yell and a howl, with a sprinkling of awful groans, 
all mixed up together in one, — sounds unearthly and 
terrific, and therefore enough to alarm anybody of stout 
nerves. This poor gentleman was put into the lower 
berth of the state-room, which my exquisite occupied. 
Towards morning, the paralytic being awake, heard his 
neighbor in the next state-room, in stepping out of bed, 
put his foot into his wash-pitcher, and at the accident 
swear so oddly that it excited his risibles to an un- 
governable extent. The result was a laugh that was a 
compound of the roar of a bear, the howl of a wolf, and 
the yell of a hyena, which, the more he tried to suppress 
it, the worse it became. The young fop was positive 
the bear had got into his room, and calling on him, in 
his best vernacular, to prepare to be eaten up. 

When the facts became known there was a good hearty 
laugh at the young man's expense, but the paralytic 
gentleman being, as the colonel observed, maliciously 
tempted by the enemy of our race to join in it, produced 
a second and improved edition of his vocal performances, 
that filled all who heard him with consternation. 

To morrow, we expect to be at Memphis. 

Yours, 

Kate. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 259 



LETTER XXXI. 

Suburbs of Natchez. 



Dear Mr. 



We have at length reached Natchez, and I write 
once more from a plantation, but one situated in Mis- 
sissippi instead of Tennessee, and in the bosom of the 
most opulent and cultivated portion of the South. I have 
already spoken of the town of Natchez, which possesses 
all the charming features of a tropical city. Its streets 
lined with the Pride of China tree, now in full flower, its 
verandah-ornamented residences, with their wide, airy 
halls and piazzas; the sweet gardens that fill all the 
atmosphere, even in the business streets, with the per- 
fume of flowers; the quiet repose and comfort of the 
wdiole place ; the indolent luxury of the nothing-to-do air 
of the citizens, who like all Southerners, never hustle 
about ; the half foreign air descended to it from the old 
Spaniards, who first dwelt here, give to Natchez a tout 
ensemble^ wholly diff'erent from a Northern town. 

Then there are the handsome suburban villas embedded 
amid flower gardens, their white columns glancing here 
and there, from openings in the foliage of the umbrageous 
trees that shade them. 

Many of the more wealthy cotton planters, whose 
estates lie on the river where it is unhealthy to reside, 
live in the vicinity of Natchez, in country houses, on 



260 THE SUNNY south; or, 

■which they lavish taste and expense without limit. There 
is, therefore, a beautiful wilderness of architectural and 
horticultural elegance around the city. The pleasant 
drives carry you winding along among these tasteful 
homes now rolling over a graveled lawn-road, now tra- 
versing hedges enclosing gardens that contain nearly all 
the tropical plants; now catching sight of a summer- 
house, now of statuary, and on all sides beauty. 

It is in these homes, which extend a league or more 
around the town, that are to be found the families that 
have given to tiie society of Natchez so much celebrity. 
Here are to be found persons who have traveled abroad, 
and cultivated their tastes by European discipline. Their 
parlors are adorned with pictures from pencils of the first 
masters. Their halls are not deficient in fine statuary. 
Their private libraries are often large and well chosen. 
The furniture, equipages, and style of living are all in 
keeping. 

In Natchez itself there are but few wealthy persons ; 
but the society is exceedingly good, and every stranger, 
who has enjoyed its hospitality, will have a grateful re- 
collection of their tasteful and pleasant homes. 

Natchez is the diocesan residence of Bishop Green, 
the Bishop of Mississippi, and also of Bishop Chance, the 
Roman Catholic Prelate. The Cathedral is a noble 
building, in the Gothic style of architecture, and its tall 
white spire can be seen for many miles around. Although 
I am more than two leagues distant from it, I have it in 
sight, visible over a rich undulating country, with here 
and there the chimneys of a villa rising above the sea of 
foliage. The Episcopal Church in Natchez is said to 
have the most opulent parish in the South-western 



THE SOUTIIEHXER AT HOME. 261 

country, wliich is doubtless the case. The "Roman 
Catholics are not numerous here, yet they have a Female 
Boarding-school or Nunnery, under the charge of jMad'Ue 
Marcellus, a lady formerly from Baltimore, and who, in 
her infancy, with her mother, was one of the fevf who 
escaped the massacre of St. Domingo, This school is 
supported mainly by Protestant pupils, w^ho in almost 
every instance leave the school with a decided bias 
towards the Roman Church, if not actually Romanists. 

The appearance of the country from the plantation 
where I am now sojourning for a few da.ys, is very beau- 
tiful, diversified as it is to the eye with woodlands, broad 
cotton fields, and country seats in the centre of sur- 
rounding estates. The magnolia is here the pride and 
glory of all trees. Within sight is a ridge that is thickly 
forested with them, and such a spectacle of green mag- 
nificence I have never beheld. "When the sun at a 
certain angle glances upon the polished surface of the 
large leaves, every tree seems as if encased in emerald 
armor. Then the grand, huge flowers, that glitter here 
and there amid the masses of foliage like large silver 
stars, fill all the air around with their fragrance. Some 
of these trees rise to the height of ninety feet — tall, 
proud cones of beauty that seem to be conscious of their 
elegance. 

The Southern ladies are all natural gardeners. The 
taste with which they lay out and arrange their par- 
terres would delight and surprise a Northern eye. The 
garden of this house where we are now visiting, though 
by no means regarded as the finest in this vicinity, I 
will describe, and it will give you some idea of others 



262 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

here. Eut first let me describe our drive hither from 
town. 

After we had driven half an hour amid the most luxu- 
riant hedge rows, which extended miles further, we came 
to a white gateway, set in the hedge. It was the en- 
trance to the estate. Passing through it, we rode a 
quarter of a mile beneath the majestic branches of a fine 
old forest, and then emerged into an open road, which 
was bounded on both sides by cotton fields, in which 
gangs of slaves in their white and blue cotton dresses 
were at work, under the eye of a mounted overseer. 

The villa, or "great house," was visible half a mile ofi", 
fairly embowered in an island of the deepest verdure, for 
an island it seemed, surrounded by the ploughed, brown 
fields of the plantation. As w^e advanced, we could catch 
sight of a column between the trees, then of a w^ing, and 
get a glimpse of the portico. At length, after two or 
three times losing sight of it as we wound round the 
undulations of the fields, we emerged full in front of its 
handsome arched gateway. The enclosure was many 
acres, entirely shut in by a hedge that was spangled with 
snow white flowers. A slave opened the gate for our 
carriage. We drove through, and found ourselves within 
a horticultural paradise. The softest lawns, the loveliest 
groups of trees of the richest leaf, the prettiest walks, 
the brightest little lakes, with swans upon their bosoms, 
the most romantic vistas, met our enraptured gaze. 
Through this lovely place w^e drove over a smooth avenue, 
at one time almost in complete darkness from the over- 
arching limbs interlaced above ; at another rolling in sun- 
light upon the open sward. 

At length we drew near the mansion, which was an 



THE SOUTIIERXER AT HOME. 263 

Italian villa of tlie purest style, elevated so as to be 
ascended by a broad flight of steps. There were im- 
mense vases, three feet tall, standing in front, just where 
the eye of taste would have them, containing West 
Indian plants, Avith gorgeous leaves, and flowering splen- 
didly, the names of which I do not know. The color of 
the edifice was a shade under the lemon tint, which re- 
lieved finely the foliage about it. In the centre Avere 
broad folding doors, which were thrown open, and pre- 
sented a prospect, through a noble central hall with a 
polished oak floor, of the garden in the rear of the 
house. Standing in the door of this hall, we could com- 
mand the main avenue of the garden, which descended 
in a succession of terraces to a small lake glittering at 
the extremity. This lake lay in deep seclusion beneath 
a grove of overhanging oaks and sycamores, of magnolia 
trees, elms, and orange trees. The south piazza com- 
manded the whole . garden, which was a labyrinth of 
beauty and floral magnificence. Upon descending into 
the garden, one passed through an avenue of tropical 
plants, many of which I had never seen, nor could have 
believed they ever existed, their loveliness and grandeur 
were so novel and extraordinary. In some of the 
flowers it seemed as if "the Angel of flowers" had tried 
to see how beautiful a thing it could make. Such ex- 
quisite forms and colors ! Ah me ! how beautiful, 
thought I, as I gazed on them, must things in Heaven 
be, if things, their shadows on earth, are so lovely I 

Which way soever one turns her steps in wandering 
through this magical garden, new and ever varied scenes 
open upon the eye. If I should particularize, I would 



£64 THE SUNNY south; or, 

but give you a catalogue and description of the plants. 
A bed of violets, sixty feet square, as blue and brilliant 
as a paved floor of turquoise, and fragrant as all Araby ; 
bordering one side of a walk, a bank of verbenas, one 
hundred feet in length and seven feet broad, composed 
of every shade of the varied color of this flower, looked 
like a mosaic aisle, surpassing description for its gorgeous 
brilliancy. There were strange looking flowers, the 
leaves of which appeared as if they had been cut out of 
crimson silk velvet, while fringes of golden flowers seemed 
to hang pendant from them. 

In the winter months, the large galleries of the house 
are shut in with glass casements, and the rarest flowers 
removed from the garden thither ; so that one can look 
from the parlor windows upon flowers, or, opening them, 
promenade among them in a pleasant atmosphere ; for 
these winter conservatories are kept at an equal tempera- 
ture by furnaces beneath. 

Many of the tropical plants require in this climate 
this protection from the first of December to the first of 
April ; tnough all the winter the gardens look green and 
beautiful, so numerous are the plants that can remain 
out. Our charming hostess told me she used formerly 
to bring in the Agave Americana every winter, not 
thinking it would live otherwise, till at length some of 
them grew too large and heavy to be removed, even by 
four men ; and she sorrowfully let them remain, supposing 
the winter would kill them, when, lo, to her surprise, 
they were not touched ; and many of the cacti that are 
usually sheltered, will endure the winter abroad. I was 
shown by her a night-blooming cereus, preserved in 



THE SOUTIIERXER AT HOME.. 265 

alcoliol, which she cut oiT in the height of its bloom. 
This is probably one of tlic most delicate and beautiful 
flowers created by the hand of Him who made this world 
of beauty. It is the custom liere, vrhen a lady has one 
of these plants on the eve of blooming, to send a servant 
to all her friends on the surrounding estates, inviting 
them to the spectacle. The gathering at such times is 
a pleasant one. Carriages roll, and saddle horses come 
galloping up the avenue, bearing youths and maidens, 
and gray heads, and children ; and a merry frolic it is, 
with a fine supper at the close, and an exciting gallopade 
back a cheval by moonlight, or star-beams. 

There is here a touching custom of having burying 
grounds on the estates. Nearly all plantations have a 
private cemetery. These places of buried affection, 
where hope and faith wait the resurrection, are often 
gems of funereal beauty. Some secluded but sweet 
spot, not too remote from the mansion, is selected. It 
is enclosed by a snow-white paling, or a massive wall of 
brick ; ivy is taught to grow over it ; elms, willows, and 
cypresses are planted within the inclosure. White mar- 
ble tombs glisten among the foliage. Perhaps over all, 
towers a group of ancient oaks, subduing the light be- 
neath, and lending to the hallowed spot a mournful 
shade, a soft twilight even in the sultry noontide's 
glare. 

Such is the family burial-place on this estate. Not 
far from it, in a place scarcely less picturesque, is the 
cemetery for the slaves, enclosed by a neat white-washed 
wall. The affection of the poor Africans has planted the 
rose and the lily, the violet and verbena, upon many 



266 THE SUNNY south; or, 

of the graves. I was struck witli the inscription upon 
a slab at the head of one of the green mounds of 
earth : 

"to the memory 

OP 

GOOD OLD PETER, 

A FAITHFUL SERVANT, 

AGED 97 YEAES, 
" Well done good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." 

ERECTED BY HIS MASTER. 

I learned that he had been in the family three genera- 
tions, and that for the last thirty years of his life he had 
been exempt from all duties, except such as he chose 
voluntarily to perform. He had served faithfully the 
father and grandfather of our present host, who had 
raised this tribute to his memory. 

"A faithful servant," mused I, as I fixed my gaze on 
those three words. Who can ask for greater commenda- 
tion? In his narrow and humble sphere he served faith- 
fully, and has entered into his rest. Oh ! that I, also, 
may have it inscribed upon my tomb, that I have been 
"a faithful servant" in my sphere wherein my Maker 
has placed me. It is praise enough for a king; for, 
monarch or slave, we are all servants to "one Master, 
who is in heaven." I left the grave of "good old 
Peter ' with a healthy lesson impressed upon my heart. 

Yours, 

Katharine Conyngham. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 267 



LETTER XXXII. 

Dear Mr. : 

This -s^^ill be the last letter I shall address you from 
this state, as to-morrow we re-embark at Natehez on our 
voyage to New Orleans. In this letter I shall touch upon 
an interesting subject, suggested by a visit which we all 
made yesterday to a neighboring estate to dine. It was 
at the residence of one of the old families, whose Ameri- 
can origin dates back to the Spanish times. Everything 
was in the most unexceptionable style. But there was 
one thing which I did not like, and will tell you frankly 
what it was. I knew that in the family was a young lady of 
great mental accomplishments and personal beauty, from 
the North, who was a governess, or, as it is termed here, 
*' teacher" in the family, and having known her in New 
England, I was anticipating no little pleasure in meeting 
her on this occasion. Not seeing her at dinner, upon 
inquiring of the lady of the mansion for her, she an- 
swered me that "she was in her study-room, and that 
she never came to the table when guests were present. 
She at such times takes her meals in her room." 

Here then I found an educated gii'l of twenty, whose 
grandfather has left a glorious name on the page of 
American history, whose father has been a member of 
Congress, treated as an inferior, placed on a level with 



268 THE SUNNY south; or, 

a housekeeper, because left a destitute orphan, she chose 
rather to teach than be dependent on relatives. 

"I will send a servant for her if you wish to see her," 
added the lady coldly. 

"No," I said, '^I will see her in her room." 

I was escorted by a servant across a noble hall hung 
with fine pictures, and supported by corinthian columns, 
to a wing of the villa. He knocked at a polished w^alnut 
door. It was opened by my lovely friend, who, on re- 
cognizing me, almost shrieked with joy, and clasped me 
to her heart. The door was closed, and we were soon 
engaged in conversation. Upon my expressing my re- 
gret at the false position which she held there, she smiled, 
(sadly, I thought,) and replied — 

''It is not altogether disagreeable, as I do not wish to 
mingle in society where the ladies, however polite, would 
regard me as not their full equal ; so I prefer dining in 
my room: though to tell you the truth, I am never in- 
vited at the dinner parties ; nor when invitations are sent 
for the family am I included; and if I go, it is expected 
I shall keep an eye on my two sweet little pupils. 
Teaching here is by some families looked upon as be- 
neath 'position,' as the phrase is. But I am content 
to endure all this neglect for the emoluments, w^hich are 
seven hundred dollars per annum, which enable me to 
send four hundred dollars yearly to my mother, who has 
need of all the aid I can render her. With the balance, 
save what I absolutely require for my own use, I am 
paying a debt left by my father. For these advantages 
I am content to hold an apparently inferior position. I 
have no pride, dear Kate. Reverses have made me 
humble." Such is the true position, Mr. , of the 



THE SOUTIIERXEE AT IIOxME. 269 

governess in the more fashionable Southern families. 
But in some she is regarded as an equal. Usually she 
holds a place midway between the lady of the mansion, 
and the overseer's Avife. Too far above one to be her 
companion, and too much beneath the other, she has an 
isolated position, under which the spirits of the most 
cheerful girl will by and by give way. Even her pupils 
feel themselves her superiors. She can never marry here; 
for the gentleman would not address "a teacher," and 
with her education and refinement she can marry no one 
beneath a gentleman. This line of distinction between 
the governess and the mother of the young children she 
teaches is more strongly defined in the older and more 
aristocratic families. Indeed it is in some of them quite 
as distinct as in the families of the nobility in England, 
where, all readers of romance have learned, the gov- 
erness never associates on terms of equality with the 
family. But there are many families of planters who 
do not live in so much style and exclusiveness, where a 
teacher would feel at home, and be treated with affection 
and respect; but she is the "teacher" still, in the eyes 
of the neighborhood. A plain planter's family is the 
best to teach in, let me say to such aspirants for places 
as governesses as may read this letter. To be sure the 
eclat of being in a very rich, stylish family, in a large, 
superbly-furnished mansion, is a temptation that en- 
snares the inexperienced; but let me tell such that, the 
higher the fashion of the family, the lower will be the 
station of the governess, and the more she will be made 
to feel her position. Much, however, depends on the 
young lady herself. True refinement will always find 



270 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

respect; while vulgarity or brusqueness of manner will 
meet its level. 

There are, however, in all pursuits and avocations 
"disagreeables." No condition of industry is free from 
them ; and this is one of the privations and disagreeables 
those young ladies who seek situations in Southern 
families must take with the situation. Teaching here is 
looked upon as a trade, both in males and females. For 
a Southern lady to teach as a governess, she loses caste 
with many, though not, of course, with the sensible and 
right minded. I know a lady with two grown daughters 
who has a school not far from Yicksburg, who will not 
let her daughters assist her in teaching, lest it should be 
an obstacle in the way of their marrying en regie. This 
woman understands the character of the people. Now 
in New England, teaching is regarded directly the re- 
verse. Our teachers there are a part of the " respect- 
ability" of society. Our professors are aristocrats. 
Some of our first ladies have been teachers when girls. 
In a word, a New England mind can scarcely compre- 
hend how teaching youth can be looked upon as a lower- 
ing vocation. 

The gentlemen who teach in the^ South as private 
tutors, are placed exactly in the same position as the 
governesses. I am told that a gentleman, who has since 
left a brilliant name for genius behind him, was tutor for 
two years in a distinguished private family near New 
Orleans, and in all that time was never an invited guest 
at any dinner party in the house. When the planter 
has furnished him a room, a horse, and his meals, and 
paid him his salary, all obligations are considered dis- 
charged towards the "teacher." Professors in colleges 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 271 

in the South are often called "teachers," and the wife 
of a president is but the "teacher's wife." In a word, 
no body is really aristocratic but the wealthy cotton- 
planter. 

The number of private tutors of both sexes throughout 
the South is very great. The distance at which planters 
dwell from towns renders it incumbent on them to employ 
teachers at home. The situation is pleasant or unplea- 
sant according to the family and the disposition of the 
tutor. If he or she, for the sake of laying up something, 
is willing to endure privation, and even "to lose position," 
for a year or two, why these trifles can be borne. The 
usual salary for a young lady is four hundred and fifty to 
five and six hundred dollars with board. Some receive 
more, especially as in the case of my fair friend, if music 
and French be included. Latin is sometimes required, 
but not often. In general, the planters keep their daugh- 
ters under governesses till they are fourteen, and then 
send them to some celebrated school. North or South, 
to remain a year or two to graduate. The sons, also, 
at eighteen, and often earlier, are dispatched to Northern 
colleges. Few daughters "finish off" at home. Since 
the recent agitation upon the slavery question, the Mis- 
sissippians are disposed to be shy of Northern teachers, 
and fewer will be emjjloyed. 

In one county here, at a public meeting, resolutions 
were passed that no teacher should be employed who was 
not born South, or was not a Northern man with South- 
ern principles. The good people of New England have 
contributed to close an avenue to preferment, South, for 
their educated sons and daughters, by their injudicious 



272 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

interposition between Southerners and tlieir institution.* 
It will be difficult, indeed, to find Southern born young 
ladies and gentlemen who will teach, and thus prevent 
the necessity of depending on the North ; but there will 
be, for a long time, a reluctance to employ New England 
teachers ; and thousands, who w^ould have found employ- 
ment on the ten thousand Southern plantations, will be 
excluded. It will be one benefit to the South. Its youth 
Avill prepare themselves to be teachers, and this despised 
vocation will become honorable. 

In my own case, I have not felt the sense of inferior- 
ity attached to a governess. The family in which I have 
so lono- dwelt at Overton Park have too much refine- 
ment, education, and good sense to think any less of me 
for being a teacher. Indeed, I am as agreeably situated 
as if I w^ere an honored relative, and feel like a daughter 
rather than a governess. If the situation of all who 
teach in families was like mine, teaching would be the 
most delightful occupation one could choose. 

Great attention is paid here to the manly education 
of boys. They are taught to ride fearlessly and sit a 
horse well. The two sons of the gentleman, eleven and 
thirteen years old, where we are now visiting, ride up to 
Natchez three times a week, to take fencing lessons, box- 
ing lessons, and lessons in dancing. They are also taught 
pistol and rifle shooting. The eldest son, who has just 
turned his nineteenth year, has displayed to me for my 
amusement, some surprising exhibitions of his skill. With 
a pistol, I saw him shoot three humble-bees on the wing, 
at six paces distant. Ho will do this all day without 
scarcely missing a shot. With a double-barreled shot-gun, 

* Written in 1S53. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 273 

I have seen him repeatedly, to-flay, liit two oranges 
which he threw into the air together, firino: right and 
left, and putting balls through both before they touched 
the ground. He has an old gun which he calls " Sharp's 
rifle," with which I saw him shoot and bring to the ground, 
a vulture that was flying so high, it seemed no bigger 
than a sparrow. I was admiring the plumage of a beau- 
tiful red bird which was perched on the top of an oak, 
when he sent in for his rifle, and before I could prevent 
him he had taken its head off with a rifle ball and brought 
it to me saying, quietly, " There it is — ^you see it is a car- 
dinal." If he goes out shooting, he disdains to kill birds 
at rest ; but first starts them up and assuredly brings 
them down on the wing. This evening, he threw up two 
quarter-of-a-dollar pieces, and hit them both in the air with 
a double-barreled pistol. Yet this thorough-bred marks- 
man is an intellectual, pale, oval-faced young man, with 
long, flowing hair, a slight moustache, and the elegant, in- 
dolent manners of a Chestnut street lounger. His eye is 
quiet, and his demeanor gentle, and one would hardly sup- 
pose, to look at his almost eSeminate form, that it would be 
certain death to stand before him in a hostile rencontre. 
It is this training which won for the immortal Mississippi 
Rifles, in Mexico, their great celebrity ; when a corps of 
three hundred of them checked the advance of six thou- 
sand Mexican cavalry, and turned the tide of battle. 

I have just seen an Indian chief. He came to the 
house, bringing five wild turkeys which he had shot. He 
is a Choctaw, and yet bears in his independent carriage 
some traces of his former free and wild life. He was 
grave in aspect, and said but little. His rifle was tied 
upon the stock with thongs of deer's hide ; and had 
18 



274 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

a rusty flint lock. He had a powder-horn and shot-bag 
of deerskin slung at his side ; wore fringed leggings, moc- 
casins, and a blue hunting shirt. His black, coarse hair 
was bound by an old red sash. He seemed to listen with 
deep attention to the piano, but no change of countenance 
betrayed emotion. He was much taken with my young 
friend's "Sharp's rifle," which he examined with great 
care ; and then made him a sign to shoot with it. Two 
hundred and fifty yards distant, a crow was perched 
upon a dead limb. The young man leveled his gun : 
the Indian watched the result eagerly, yet with a slight 
smile of incredulity. The crow fell to the earth simul- 
taneously with the report. The Indian clapped the rifle 
on the barrel with a grunt of praise, and, taking the 
marksman's hand, pressed it in token of fellowship in 
hunter's skill. He fairly fell in love with the rifle, and 
finally putting it down, walked away sadly towards the 
forest where he had his camp. 

I was then told by our host a very striking and touch- 
ing incident associated with him. A chapel was about 
to be erected on a neighboring estate. The walls were 
commenced, but the work of the first day was pulled 
down in the night by an unknown hand. They were 
recommenced, and the same thing occurred thrice. This 
chief confessed that it was his act. 

" You have covered with your prayer-house the grave 
of my wife !" was the abrupt and touching reason he 
ffave. He was threatened if he interfered again. But 
a fourth time the walls were destroyed, and, at length, 
the sensibilities of the Indian were respected, and the 
church erected a few feet farther south, when the devoted 
husband gave no further molestations. What a subject 



THE SOUTHERXER AT HOME. 275 

for a poem from the pen of Amelia, or some of our female 
poetesses, or Prentice, or Park Benjamin ! 

My next letter will be written en voyage on our way to 
New Orleans, where we hope to be by the day after to- 
morrow. Till then, adieu. 

Yours respectfully, 

Kate. 



276 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 



LETTER XXXIII. 



Dear Mr. 



It is with a certain misgiving and want of cardinal 
faith in mail-bags, that I sit down to my purple, velvet- 
topped writing-desk and take up my jeweled gold pen 
(a New Year's gift from the colonel) to commence bur- 
nishing up a "Needle" for you. One paper of six 
shining needles, sharp as thorns — I mean the thorns 
that guard rose-buds — I sent to you last May, nicely 
sealed, and addressed to you in a plain, fair hand, that 
could not be mistaken for any thing else. 

I placed the package carefully in the hands of the 
village post-master of the rural town near which I was 
then visiting, in Mississippi. I was on horseback, and 
riding up to the door with the parcel in my hand, I 
placed it in his possession, saying, "Parson," (for he is 
an ex-Methodist preacher, with gray locks, and a vene- 
rable. General Jackson-like aspect, with his wiry hair 
brushed hard back from his knotty forehead,) " my dear, 
good parson," said I, in my most entreating tones, "I 
entrust to you this little package, to go by mail to Phi- 
ladelphia. I wish you would see that it is certainly 
mailed." 

" Yes, Miss, it shall go to-night. Is there any money 
in it?" he asked, looking at its four corners, peering at 
the seal, and balancing it on his two fingers, as if to test 
its avoirdupois. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 277 

'' They are needles," I said, smiling, " and they mustn't 
get wet." 

^'Needles! Miss, then; I'm 'fraid its hardly mailable 
matter," and he held the parcel more lightly in his grasp, 
as if he were apprehensive of pricking his fingers, should 
any of the sharp points penetrate the paper. 

"Weigh it, sir, and charge postage accordingly: it 
will be paid in Philadelphia," I answered; and receiving 
a renewed promise from the snowy-headed old postmas- 
ter, who is known by no other title or name than "Par- 
son," in all the town, I rode away at full canter, to rejoin 
Isabel and the handsome young planter, Edward, who 
were slowly walking their horses along the green path 
that wound by the brook which flowed past the village. 
This package you received in due time, just as you 

were on the eve of departure for Europe, Mr. , as 

I learn from a letter, and after your departure it appears 
to have vanished. Doubtless, in their humility, they 
modestly withdrew themselves into some obscure corner 
of your domicilium, to give way to the glittering silver 
needles with which you were about to favor your readers 
from the lands of the rising sun over the blue water. 
This is the true secret of their invisibility, and I have 
no doubt, that by a diligent search beneath the bundles 
and packages of old MSS., which fill the corners and 
crevices of your editorial room, the missing, modest, 
retiring, eclipsed needles will be brought to light. 

But, I fear, so long a burial in obscurity will have 
lusted them and rendered them unfit for use; so, whe- 
ther found or lost, they are to be regarded among the 
things "that were." 

Not seeing any of them make their appearance in your 



2T8 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

columns, which shone steadily with the lustre of your 
own lively epistles, I came to the conclusion that they 
liad been disgraced — had been quietly sent to that bourne 
of all rejected communications — "the tomb of the Ca- 
pulets." 

"Requiescat in pace," I sighed, as I thought of the 
parcel, and submissively bowed to your better judgment. 
I heard of its loss in this way. A letter from your edi- 
tor pro-tem, asking me for more letters, came acquaint- 
ing me with the fact of the "mysterious disappearance" 
of the six I had sent. Upon reading this, I remained a 
moment quite stupefied. If a poor hen had seen a 
wicked hawk at one swoop dart into the height of the 
clouds with six of her little, golden-colored chickens in 
his talons, and disappear with them forever from sight, 
she could not have been more confounded than I was at 
this intelligence of the disappearance of my six epistles. 
At length a heavy sigh relieved my heart; and half a 
dozen tears (one for each needle) fell pattering upon the 
letter I was reading. I could not help weeping, I was 
vexed, and angry, and grievously sorry. I thought of 
all the thoughts which I had drawn from my heart, or 
kindled at my brain, interwoven in their lines ! It was 
as if they, like Noah's dove, had gone forth from the 
ark of my mind, seeking rest in other hearts and minds, 
(those of your dear readers, my many friends, for whom 
I wrote them all in sweet, though unseen, communion 
with them,) and were driven back, ruffled, wing-wounded, 
to rest in my own soul again — the ark from which they 
so hopefully went forth ! 

None but an author can sympathize with me. None 
but the author who writes — coining his heart as he writes 



THE vSOUTIIERNER AT HOME. 279 

— who writes with all his intellectuality active — and with 
large love for all those unknown ones, the good, and wise, 
and beautiful, for whom he writes — and whom, as his 
pen flows over the spotless page, he sees a noble and ap- 
preciating audience assembled before him — none but an 
author who writes thus can feel all I felt. To such 
among your readers, those dear friends, whom having 
not seen I love, I look for that sympathy which can only 
atone for the loss of so much of myself, which I had 
jDOured out from the full fountain of my being into theirs 
— at least, which I believed I was pouring into theirs, 
but which has only been poured out upon the earth and 
air. 

It is true, the lost MS. was but sixty pages of letter 
paper; but it is not the abundance, but that it is ourself, 
a part of ourself that is gone, that makes the loss. One 
would grieve for a finger amputated, as well as for an 
arm. Until now, I knew not the maternal love which 
an authoress cherishes for her literary offspring. Per- 
haps, if I am to be an author, it was best I should pass 
through all an author's phases, and experience all an 
author's experiences. I therefore made up my mind 
patiently to endure the loss; but I felt like a blind 
orator, who has been eloquently and touchingly address- 
ing for an hour a large audience supposed to be before 
him, when he is afterwards told that he had been cruelly 
deceived, and had been pouring out his heart, soul, and 
spirit to empty seats — to an unpeopled void ! 

The end of a writer is the mind of the reader ; and 
while writing, in imagination beholding his readers, 
reading his thoughts and lines of fire and love, he has 
his reward, though he never sees to his dying daT one 



280 THE SUNNY vSOUTIi; OR, 

of them. But when he is told that his thoughts reached 
no living mind, that they were addressed to a peopleless 
void — by the destruction of his MS., before it reaches 
the press, — he feels an aching void — a tumultuous back- 
ward ebb into his soul of all that had gone forth, coming 
like an overwhelming torrent, at first to prostrate with 
despair; but not finally destroy his energies. If he pos- 
sesses true genius, he will rally, and he will try once 
more ; but he can never again put forth the same 
thoughts. Their freshness is gone, their force lamed, 
their beauty impaired by repetition. He will seek a 
new field, and what is lost, is lost irrevocably. Such is 
the nature of that sort of genius of which authors are 

made, Mr. , and such is authorship in one of its 

phases. 

Well, I w^ent to work again, but I did not, oh, I could 
not write over the same letters, and so I let them go, 
and resumed where the last of the missing ones had 
ended. The six lost, described our voyage down the 
Cumberland from Nashville; adventures on the Ohio; 
scenes and incidents upon the Mississippi; life on the 
river ; habits of the boatmen ; wooding by torchlight ; a 
tornado; a collision; a shipwrecked steamer; an earth- 
quake; the city of Memphis; its population, habits, and 
manners; the city of Vicksburg; the city of Natchez, 
and many things too numerous to mention. Dear me! 
what a loss ! And this is not all. Another package of 
a new series is gone. 

The seventh letter of the new series was dated at a 
plantation near Natchez, where I was sojourning a few 
weeks. It, and five more, described society in the coun- 
try, in the town ; deer hunting, fox hunting ; a visit to 



THE SOUTHERNER AT ]IOME. 281 

an Indian village and temple ; a love scene ; a confession ; 
a wounded cavalier; a journey to the prairie; an Indian 
maid, and an adventure replete with romance. The 
twelfth letter closed as we were in the prairies encamped, 
and written while the gentlemen of our party were dress- 
ing a deer for dinner. These letters were put into thfe 
mail in two parcels at the next post-office. 

The postmaster was a young man with a savage mus- 
tache, a black, stiletto-like eye, and he kept his office in 
a log-cabin that was half-grocery. He was terrifically 
polite, and as he extended his hand to take the parcels, 
he betrayed the butt of a bowie-knife in his gaping vest. 
He said the stage would pass in a few minutes, and in- 
deed, I saw it come up, a sort of dry-goods box on two 
wheels, driven by a yellow-faced youth of seventeen, his 
forehead and eyes buried in a monstrous buffalo-cap, as 
large as a huzzar's, while his feet were bare, and over 
his shoulders he wore a green blanket with a hole in the 
centre, through which he had thrust his head. In this 
box was a leathern mail-bag, into which I did see my 
parcel safely deposited and locked up, the postmaster 
with the mustache returning the key to his own pocket. 
They were the only letters that went that day ; and now 

after four months you have received neither, Mr. . 

It is a shame, and enough to try the patience of any 
body to be so peculiarly unfortunate. I suppose they 
have added ere this fuel to the flames of the hecatomb 
of wandering epistles that monthly blazes in the court- 
yard of the General Post-office, at Washington. It is 
said they save only letters with money I Ah, young 
gentlemen, or you good gentlemen with gray hair, who 
superintend this dreadful fire which destroys so much 



282 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

that sprung from immortal minds and loving Learts, if 
you had known the value of my two parcels, which, 
doubtless, passed through your hands, you would have 
had mercy upon them ; I feel that you w ould have spared 

them from the flames, and sent them safely to Mr. ; 

and if this should be so unfortunate as to fall into your 
power, grand Inquisitor of the Dread Inquisition of 
Letters, called dead, yet being filled with thoughts, can 
never die — spare, oh spare this, my poor epistle,* and 
all others that come after it, and send it on its way re- 
joicing, and, as in duty bound, I ever will pray for your 
happiness, health, and peace forevermore. 

Your humble petitioner, 

Kate Conyngham. 

* By a late law, the words " To be preserved," written around 
the seal, insures the preservation of the letter at the Dead Let- 
ter office. 

r p o 

The letters '' ' will secure the return to the writer of 

all MSS., which are equal to money to author and publisher. 

Editor. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 283 



My Dear Mr. 



LETTER XXXIV. 

Chateau dk Clerv, La. 



My last letter, dated from this beautiful villa, a 
sugar estate, eleven miles above the city of New Orleans, 
detailed to you my grief at the loss of the round dozen 
*' Needles," and my reluctance to rewrite; indeed, my 
inability to write them a second time. I, therefore, must 
briefly state in this that the space covered by the twelve 
letters was three months, and that the twelfth found me 
on the prairies near the capital of Mississippi, traveling 
in a sort of caravan-fashion with the colonel and a large 
party, going to look at some Indian lands which they 
had purchased. We soon returned to the hospital man- 
sion near Natchez, where we had been a few weeks so- 
journing, and the following week embarked for New 
Orleans. From this embarkation I resume my letters, 
aided by copious notes which I took while descending the 
river. The city of Natchez has a romantic site, being 
situated, like Quebec, upon an elevated table, which on 
the verge of the river forms a perpendicular bluff of 
nearly two hundred feet. Along the edge of this preci- 
pice is a green mall, or promenade, with seats sociably 
placed underneath the trees, upon which idlers can sit 
enjoying the fresh breeze from the river, watching the 
ascending and descending steamers that pass a score 



284 THE SUNNY south; or, 

a-day, or looking at the horsemen cantering through the 
level streets of the opposite village of Concordia. On 
our way to the landing we stopped a few moments to 
admire the wide view. It was grand and ocean-like, so 
2)lane and illimitable is the level sea of foliage that 
recedes westward to the even horizon. Four miles above 
the city the mighty Father of Waters emerges from this 
great valley of vast forests, and expands before us like 
a lake, and flows sweeping past with the aspect of irre- 
sistible power, and, five miles below, loses himself again 
in the bosom of this cypress desert-sea. 

Our boat was not yet in sight, but a tall column of 
smoke, in form like that which went before Israel, was 
pointed out to me, full twelve miles northwardly, rising 
skyward from the level surface of the emerald ocean of 
forest. The river itself and the steamer borne upon it, 
were invisible, being hidden within the heart of the sa- 
vannah; but we could trace the unseen course and tor- 
tuous windings of the flood by the onward motion of the 
column of smoke. At length, after watching it half an 
hour above the trees, and seeing it come nearer, the 
column, the steamer, and the river simultaneously shot 
out from the embracing trees a league off. Oh ! it was 
a grand sight to behold the noble steamer plough its 
j)Owerful prow through the turbid flood, turning aside 
like straws in its path, floating trees that w^ould h-ave 
made masts for line-of-battle ships, while the rushing 
of the waters cleaved by her bow, and torn up by her 
wheels, mingling with the hoarse double-note of her two 
escape-pipes, loudly reached our ears. As she drew 
nearer, she fired a gun from her bow, and the report 
echoed fi-om the clifi", and re-echoed from Fort Rosalie, 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 285 

a fine old ruin, overhanging the lower town, sunk growl- 
ing away among the hills. 

We were soon on board, and in possession of luxurious 
state-rooms, richly carpeted, and containing elegant beds, 
superbly hung with drapery, marble laver stands, velvet- 
colored lounges, and every luxury that taste could invent. 
I don't wonder now that the people travel so much here. 
The boat is a regular packet between Vicksburg and 
New Orleans, and being always filled with wealth and 
fashion — for the travel up and down the river of the 
planters and their families is immense — the saloons of a 
steamer are like a continual Levee. 

But we did not long delay in our gorgeous state-rooms, 
inviting as they were ; — Isabel and I, taking the colonel's 
arms, and making him a secure prisoner — he surrendering 
his liberty gracefully — went to the upper deck, to take 
a farewell view of Natchez, that hospitable, wealthy, 
and polished town, which has so often been spoken of by 
travelers, as the most charming place in the sunny South 
— a testimony to which I freely add my own. We had 
left dear friends there, and we could see some of them 
waving their handkerchiefs or hats from carriage-windows 
or on horseback, which signals of friendship we answered 
as Ions: as we could distino-uish the flutter of a hand- 
kerchief. 

We were delighted with the scenery — with the fine old 
hills, broken into precipices of the most romantic shapes 
and wildest beauty. The spires and towers of the city 
appeared with striking efi'ect above the cliff; but the 
most prominent object of all was the green parapet and 
glacis of Fort Panmure, or Rosalie, as the French 
anciently termed it. 



28G THE suxxY south; or, 

This truly picturesque fort has been the scene of many 
a thrilling romance. The pens of Griffith, of Monette, 
of Dupee, have invested its site with associations of the 
deepest interest. Above its now verdant embrasures has 
floated the golden-hued flag of Spain, the lily of France, 
the double-cross and blood-red ensign of England, and 
more lately the cheerful stars and stripes of my own 
country ; and it is my patriotic prayer that no fifth banner 
wave above it, till "time shall be no longer." 

Twenty miles below Natchez, we passed a congeries of 
precipices frowning above the river, called the "White 
Cliffs." They are broken and cloven by the sapping of 
the river into the hundreds of fantastic shapes ; and as 
the strata are varied by the most brilliantly-tinted ar- 
gillaceous soils, the appearance of their lofty faces is ex- 
tremely beautiful. A rainbow seemed to have been 
driven against it by the winds, and left fragments of 
every dye staining its sides. One of the cliffs stands 
alone, and from the shape of its summit, which seems to 
be crested with a battlement, it is called "The Castle." 

It was proposed by Isabel, that it should henceforth 
be named " Castle Kossuth," which suggestion was carried 

by acclamation. Please, therefore, Mr. , make the 

whole world and "the rest of mankind" advised of this 
addition. Isabel is quite carried away with the great 
Magyar, and has named fifty things after him; and I 
fear, if he were a single gentleman, she would not hesitate 
the turning of a silver three-cent piece to be herself 
also named after him. I wonder Madame Kossuth isn't 
jealous! I wouldn't like my husband — but no matter. 
In my next I w^ill tell you what I think about Mr. Kos- 
suth; for one lady's opinion of one of the other sex, Mr. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 287 

, is worth that of fifty men. We women see and 

understand instinctively. You men cogitate, reason, 

hem, and haw, and then— judge wrong always. Ah, if 

gentlemen in business would ask their wives' opinions of 

such and such men they deal with, be sure they would 

save them a great deal of loss and vexation. The good 

old Bible term, "help meet," means vastly more than the 

"lords matrimonial" ever guessed at. But, dear me 

— One of the cliffs is divided, leaving a pair of pinnacles. 

From one to the other an Indian girl, pursued by a 

vengeful lover, leaped, and saved her life. It was a 

fearful gulf across which she bounded; and only wings 

of fear could have compassed it in safety. The incident 

has drawn from the graceful pen of John T. Griffith, Esq., 

a planter in the vicinity, a charming story, called "The 

Fawn's Leap." 

It was first published in one of the earliest, if not the 
earliest number of the old "Atlantic Souvenir." I read 
it when a child with great delight. I wish you would 
discover it and republish it. Mr. Griffith is a native of 
Princeton, N. J., and cousin of Commodore Stockton, and 
m him one of the first American writers has been spoiled 
by opulence in estate. If Mr. G. had been compelled to 
write as an author, he would, now in his fiftieth year, have 
stood at the head of American writers. 

As evening drew near, we descended from our elevated 
promenade to the ladies' cabin. It was lighted by clus- 
ters of chandeliers of the richest description, resplendent 
with a thousand trembling prisms. ^ Six chandeliers at 
equal distances revealed a series of connected saloons, 
with the intervening folding doors thrown back, fully 
two hundred feet in length. Along the centre, extended 



288 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OK, 

for eighty feet, stood a table for supper, that, in its per- 
fect and sumptuous arrangements, rivaled that at the 
" Irving," " Girard," or any first rate hotel. Indeed, the 
first class steamers now are first class hotels floating ! I 
am not surprised at the gentleman, who, for three or four 
trips, retained his stateroom, never going on shore at 
either port, until, being suspected of being some myste- 
rious character who had designs forbidden by the eighth 
Commandment, he was questioned by the captain. In 
reply, he said : 

" My dear sir, I find your boat so comfortable, your 
table so luxurious, your officers so polite, your servants 
so attentive, and such varied company enliven your 
cabins, that, being a person of leisure and fortune, I 
prefer residing with you, at least till the St. Charles is 
rebuilt. I trust you will have no objection to a perma- 
nent passenger!" 

The vanity of the gallant captain took the place of 
his apprehensions, and, bowing politely, he left this gen- 
tleman of good taste to enjoy himself as he pleased — a 
privilege which I will now allow to all my good friends 
who have read thus far in this poor letter, which I mis- 
givingly tender to the tender mercies of all post-masters, 
mail-carriers, and mail-bags on the route between this 
place and your fair city. 

Very respectfully, 

I am your friend, 

Kate. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 289 



LETTER XXXV. 

My dear Mr. : 

My last "Needle" left me a voyager upon the Mis- 
sissippi, on my way to New Orleans, on board one of the 
elegant packets that ply between that city and Natchez. 
If you have never been a guest on one of these noble 
vessels that constantly plow the bosom of the monarch 
of waters, you can form no idea of the variety of interest 
and entertainment to be drawn from a trip on one of 
them. Let me describe the interior scenes of our cabin 
the first evening after leaving Natchez. In one corner 
of the superbly-lighted saloon was a group composed of 
three lovely, dark-eyed Southern girls, a handsome young 
man, and an elderly gentleman, with a fine. General 
Washington head, who was dressed in a blue coat, white 
vest with gilt buttons, and drab pantaloons, terminating 
in polished boots — a real fine old Southern gentleman, 
with princely manners. They are all engaged in seem- 
ingly very interesting conversation, and the girls laugh 
a great deal and merrily, and seem to refer everything 
with a charming familiarity, yet respectful affection, to the 
snowy headed gentleman, who seems to be in the most ad- 
mirable humor. His full, hearty, cheery laugh does one 
good to hear, especially when one sees his fine face lighted 
up with benevolence and kindliness. 

The three girls seem to he teazing him to consent to 
19 



290 THE SUNNY south: or, 

some request, while the handsome young man looks on 
and enjoys the scene. I don't hear a word they say, but 
I know they are all happy, and I sympathize with their 
joy. Oh ! how many ten thousands of happy groups 
there are in all the world as happy, whose voices I not 
only do not hear, but whom I do not see, and never shall 
see, nor know, (until I get to Heaven,) that they ever 
existed ! Every hour there is a world full of joy felt by 
millions, wdiose hearts beat like mine, and if all the happy 
lauo-hter that at this moment, while I write this line, 
could be heard at once thrilling through the air, we 
should think all the stars of God were shouting for joy, 
and all the music of Heaven to be floating around the 
earth ! Indeed, this world is a happy world, and if tens 
of thousands of hearts in it daily beat 

" Funeral marches to the grave," 

tens of thousands of other hearts bound with all the 
delight of joyous life. 

I have often thought, when I reflected upon the sweet 
and gentle characters of the dear friends I find wherever 
I go, and learn to love ere I part from them, that there 
must be in this God's good world, in thousands of places 
where I never have been, nor ever shall be, glorious 
armies of as sweet and gentle, of as intellectual and 
loveable ones, whom, if I knew them, one and all, I 
should love, and they would love me. I sigh to think 
that I live ' on the same green earth, a life long with a 
legion of loving spirits congenial with mine, and never 
spe them face to face, and that all of us will go down to 
the shades of death, ignorant that the others had been 
created. But, when I begin tq regret thisj Christianity 



THE SOUTnERNER AT HOME. 291 

unfolds to my eye of faitli, tlic world of undying life be- 
yond tlie tomb; and I console myself with the thought 
that " There I shall see them and know them all, and be 
known and loved of them ! There the veil which sepa- 
rates us congenial ones in this life will be removed, and 
I shall see and know them all ; not one of us all will he lost 
to the others there!'' But my pen is a great truant, Mr. 

. It will not so much follow facts as wander after 

thouo;hts. It is like the "busy bee," 

" Gathering honey all the day, 
From every opening flower." 

In the opposite corner of the saloon sits, or rather in- 
clines a little out of the shade of the chandelier, yet so 
that the light falls in soft transparent shadow upon her 
transparent features, an invalid lady of thirty years! 
Kneeling by her footstool is an Africaness, with a scarlet 
kerchief bound about her crispy brow, who looks up into 
the pure intelligent face of the lady v>dth watchful solici- 
tude, while with a gorgeous fan of peacock's feathers, 
she slowly and gently creates a zephyr-like air about 
her. There is something in the countenance of the in- 
valid that is touchingly beautiful. It is a face that looks 
as if it were spiritualized by suffering. Her dark, intel- 
ligent eyes, unnaturally large and bright, uneasily wander 
about the^aloon. The presence of strangers seems to 
alarm and distress her. Yet her looks are peaceful, 
calm, and resigned, like one whom sorrow hath chas- 
tened, and who hath learned to say to pain, " Thou art 
my sister!" 

I feel a deep interest in her, and will approach her, 



292 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

and speak gently to her, and offer my services; for she 
seems to be alone, save her faithful attendant. 

Hark ! pulse-leaping music rolls from a grand piano 
through the noble saloon. A tall, graceful, blue-eyed 
lady, whom, with her husband, we took on board at a 
w^ood-yard an hour ago, has seated herself at the instru- 
ment, at the solicitation of several gentlemen and ladies, 
who seem to know her, for on these Southern boats 
everybody seems to know everybody, and feels as much 
at home as on their own plantations. What superb 
melody her magic fingers draw from the ivory keys ! I 
cease writing in my note-book to listen to a perfect 
April-shower of harmony — sun-shine, rainbows, thunder, 
singing birds, and ringing rain drops, all bewilderingly 
and joyously heard together! The "fine old Southern 
gentleman" first pricked up his ears, and then rose and 
advanced; the three graces forgot to tease him, and hung 
breathlessly over the piano. The lady commenced sing- 
ing Casta Diva. The invalid raised her gloriously 
bright eyes, and her pearl-hued cheek flushed with a 
tint as delicate as the reflections of a rose-leaf; and with 
parted lips she seemed to drink in the melodious waves 
of air, and receive them into her very soul. How se- 
raphically she smiles as she listens ! Oh, music is heaven- 
born ! Music can reach the soul of the dying when it is 
deaf to the voice of earthly love ! Once I watched at 
midnight by the bedside of a loved and dying maiden, 
whose brow the day before had been blessed with the 
waters of baptism. 

"Sing to me, dearest Kate, — sing to me," she whis- 
pered. " I am dying. Sing to me, and let me hear 
your voice the last sound of earth ! I feel that my soul 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 293 

is going alone. Alone, into the vast void that stretches 
between time and eternity. Oh, sing to me as you find 
my spirit departing, that my wandering soul may have 
some sound of earth to cling to as it launches into that 
dread unknown!" 

So I sang to her, and her soul took flight on the 
wings of the sweet words, 

"I would not live alway — no, welcome the tomb; 
Since Jesus hath lain there, I dread not its gloom. 
There sweet be my rest, till he bid me arise, 
To hail him in triumph descending the skies." 

The graceful stranger who had taken her seat at the 
piano, soon gathered about her not only all the ladies 
and gentlemen in our cabin, but the gentlemen in the 
great saloon left their politics to advance and listen, 
others laid down their books and newspapers, and even 
parties rose from their cards to come nigh her ! There 
"svas a perfect jam about the cabin entrance — tiers of heads 
beyond tiers of heads ! I myself was perfectly entranced 
by the syren. Without apparent effort she would pour 
and pour, and pour forth from her superbly-shaped throat, 
liquid globules of melody, that intoxicated the ear of the 
listener with hitherto unknown pleasure. She brought 
tears into many eyes by the tenderest pathos, and again 
dispelled the tears by successive outbursts of the liveliest 
strains of wild, rich, song. Now she would fill all the 
saloon with a storm of notes, gorgeous and grand, and 
unearthly beyond conception ; torrents of music, music, 
music, loud, wild, and terrible, seemed to be roaring 
around us in one continuous overwhelming cataract; and 
when we could bear no more, a sudden and instantaneous 



294 THE SUNNY south; or, 

cessation of keys and voice would be succeeded by a soft 
gentle, loving air, as simple and clear as that of a bird. 
This bird-like air warbled in her throat, would seem to 
ascend and ascend, and mount and soar, and still ascend 
far upwards, rise higher and higher, higher and higher, 
growing sweeter and fainter, ascending, and still ascend- 
ing, until, breathless with enchantment, we listened till 
we lost the far off voice of the lark-like notes in the 
sl^ies — dying away at length into a sacred silence. 
Every heart suspended its beating! With lips parted, 
eyes raised upwards, and ears intent, stood every one of 
the eager and bewitched listeners, as if an angel had 
gone singing up into heaven, out of their sight. 

A sudden crash of music startles the silence, as if 
thunder had burst from the skies upon our heads ! It is 
one grand sweep of the fingers of the charmer over every 
key of the instrument, in an overpowering finale, when, 
rising from her seat, she seeks blushingly and modestly 
her husband's eye and arm, amid the most rapturous and 
prolonged applause. 

"Who can she be? It must be Jenny Lind! or it is 
certainly Kate Hayes!" said fifty voices. But it was 

neither of these ! All musical talent, Mr. , is not 

displayed in concert rooms. In private life, among 
American ladies, especially among the highly-educated 
Southerners, to whom music is a native air, there is as 
much talent as is possessed by Miss Lind, or Miss Hayes, 
or Madame Parodi. This sweet stranger and noble per- 
former was a Mrs. W h, a young married lady, whose 

husband's plantation was near the point where they cm- 
barked, not many leagues below Natchez, of which she is 
a native. Miss Cole, formerly of New Rochclle, Misa 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 295 

"VVatson, of Nashville, and many others, I can name, sing 
Casta Diva and a score of other operatic pieces, with as 
much effect and feeling as any cantatrice that ever ap- 
peared before a public assembly. America has more 
musical talent and skill buried in the retirement of her 
Southern plantations, or adorning her Northern drawing- 
rooms, than Sweden, Italy, or Germany possess, in all 
their valleys and amid all their romantic scenery. 

Should circumstances call them to make use of their 
talent and genius as a means of support, our ladies could 
*'beat" Europe in operatic music as our gentlemen have 
lately done in yachting. Biscaccianti — withal her Italian 
husband's name substituted for her own — is an American 
girl, with whom I once met in her school ! This intel- 
lectual and soul-full Biscaccianti has not at present her 
equal in opera song. She has the key to our joys and 
tears. I learn that she has lately sailed for California, 
to awaken there the echoes of the "Golden Gate." 
Should it "grate harsh thunder" before her approach, at 
the sound of this songstress' silvery voice, it will swing 
wide, like Milton's Celestial portal 

" On harmonious hinges turning." 

Yours, 

Kate. 

P. S. I have dated this and two preceding letters from 
"Chateau de Clery." This is the sugar estate of a 
French gentleman of this name, where I am sojourning 
for a few weeks, and from w^hich I shall write you some 
accounts of life in the villas of the opulent Louisianaises. 



296 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 



LETTER XXXVI. 



My Dear Mr. : 

How shall my feeble pen describe to you the beauty 
of the scenery of the Lower Mississippi ! If the northern 
portion of this mighty flood, as it rolls forever and ever 
amid its dark wildernesses, is gloomy and awe inspiring, 
the southern arm is infinitely more beautiful. One or 
two of my last letters have been devoted to a sketch of 
our trip from Natchez towards New Orleans. It is at 
Natchez that the wild forest-like character of the Miss- 
issippi begins to assume the more cheerful features of 
varied scenery, and cultivated savannahs. 

Natchez itself sits like a queen crowning a fortress- 
looking cliif, and extending her sceptre over the verdant 
plains and smiling valleys of Louisiana. Then twenty 
miles below this city frown down upon the voyager the 
craggy peaks and tower-like walls of "Ellis Cliffs." 
Erom that point till Baton Eouge comes in sight, the 
shores become more open, and the banks more interesting 
with cliff, upland, and many a green spot of rustic loveli- 
ness, where the blue smoke curling upwards amid deep 
foliage, betrays the secluded home of the planter. 

A few leagues above Baton Rouge, the cotton fields 
cease, and for these snow-white acres is beheld the tall, 
straight sugar-cane waving to the breeze for many a 
league. Until I came in sight of the first sugar estate, 



THE SOUTHERNEll AT HOME. 29T 

I was not aware of the distinctness with which the lines 
of climate that mark the locality of our country's dif- 
ferent staples can he discerned. In descending the 
Upper Mississippi, the last wheat field was taken leave 
of at the same moment the first cotton plantation was 
pointed out to me ; and after sailing eight degrees through 
the cotton latitudes, the last cotton plantation and the 
first sugar estate meet not far above Baton Rouge. Thus 
the advance with majestic progression on one of these 
mammoth steamers down through the latitudes, has in it 
something of the sublime. But I regret to leave the 
pure, white plains of spotless cotton fleece, than which 
nothing can be more charming to the eye. I shall never 
forget when one morning as I rose from breakfast, at Lake 
Providence, the gentleman, at whose house we were 
guests, cried, 

" Come, Miss Kate, ride with me, and I will show you 
a sight worth going across the ocean to see, and which 
beats all John Bull has got in the Crystal Palace." 

After twenty minutes' gallop along the narrow shores 
of the lake, we drew rein on the verge of a cotton-field. 

" Now hold by that branch, and stand upright in your 
saddle, Kate, and look before you," he said. 

I did so, and beheld a level expanse, containing eleven 
hundred acres in cotton, without fence or ridge to break 
the beautiful spectacle. The plant was in full boll, hang- 
ing to the hand of the picker in the richest luxuriance. 
A small army of slaves, whose black faces contrasted 
oddly with the white fields, were marching onward 
through it gathering the white wreaths, and heaping 
therewith their baskets, while the loud musical chorus 
of their leader's voice, to which their own kept tune, 



298 THE suxNY south; or, 

as he sang ^^the picker's song," fell cheerfully on my 
ears. 

"That field alone," said the major, with a sparkling 
eye, "is worth $60,000." 

Oh, the wealth of these cotton-planters, Mr. ! 

But if they are rich, what shall be said of the owners 
of the sugar estates, which are far more profitable to 
cultivate than cotton plantations I Our New England 
farmers have no conception of the riches of these South- 
ern people. Let me give you an instance of the manner 
in which money accumulates here. A young gentleman, 
whom I know near Natchez, received, at twenty-one 
years of age, thirty slaves from his father, and fourteen 
hundred acres of w^ild forest land on the Mississippi. 
He took his hands there, and commenced clearing. 
Thirty axes do vast execution in a wood. As he cleared 
he piled up the cloven timber into fire-wood length, and 
sold it to passing steamers at |2 50 a cord. The first year 
he took $12,000 in cash for wood alone. The second 
year he raised 80 bales of cotton, which he sold at $50 
a bale, and he also sold wood to the amount of $14,000 
more. The third year he sold 150 bales of cotton, and 
cleared by wood $10,000, which, with $8,000 his cotton 
sold for, brought him an income of $18,000. Out of 
this the expense for feeding and clothing his thirty slaves 
per annum was less than $1,800. The young man, not 
yet twenty-nine, is now a rich planter, with a hundred 
slaves, and is making 500 bales of cotton at a crop. 

Excuse these business-looking figures, Mr. , but in 

these days ladies are expected to know about such things, 
you know, and if I have learned such facts it is no harm 
for me to write them. If I were writing from Lapland, 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 299 

I should, perhaps, tell you how many reindeer's skins 
went to make a young girl's marriage portion. 

It was half an hour before sunset when we came in 
sight of Baton Rouge, the capital of Louisiana. The 
State-house, large and white, loomed grandly up, and 
overtowering the town belittled it so that its best houses 
seemed no bigger than cottages. The place is small, 
but flanked by United States Barracks on one side, and 
by the Capitol on the other. The star-spangled banner 
was flying at the top of the government flag-stafi', and 
flaunted saucily in the breeze. 

''There is General Taylor's house," cried the captain 
of our steamer, who, by-the-way, is a great lady's man, 
and the civilest spoken gentleman to be a rough, wea- 
ther-beaten Mississippi commander I ever knew. 

He directed my gaze to a small, white dwelling on the 
verge of the parade-ground, with its garden descending 
to the water-side. It was an humble home, and would 
not have been too fine for the sergeant to live in. I 
gazed upon the spot with those indescribable emotions 
with which we always gaze upon localities with which 
eminent men have once been associated. 

" From that unpretending abode he went forth to the 
conquest of Mexico," said Colonel Peyton, addressing 
Isabel and me, "and from it a second time he was called 
to preside over the destinies of the Union." 

" His body lies buried beneath the trees there," said 
one of the passengers. 

" No, answered our captain, " his remains were taken 
to Kentucky." 

"There is old Whitey," exclaimed a beautiful young 
girl near me, one of those who had come on board at 



300 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

Natchez. " Dear old Whitey ; he deserves that the girls 
of Baton Rouge should every day crown hhn with flow- 
ers, and interwreath his mane with the gayest ribbons." 

Sure enough I saw the ancient war-horse himself. He 
was grazing quietly on the slope of the parade-ground; 
but at the noise of our passing boat, he raised his aged 
head to regard us philosophically ! He looks venerable, 
but has not lost his symmetry; and they say that at the 
sound of the morning and evening gun he pricks up his 
ears, tosses his head, flings his gray mane abroad, and 
canters into the smoke, snuffing it up, and neighing like 
a trumpet. 

I walked through the four or five pretty streets that 
constitute Baton Rouge. It is a French looking town yet, 
though French manners with the language have given 
way to a highly-polished American population. The 
streets are prettily shaded; the houses have verandahs; 
ladies were in the balconies; beautiful olive-cheeked 
children, with hair dressed a la Suisse, promenaded the 
sidewalks; servants were indolently occupying the door- 
sides, and a few carriages drive through the streets. I 
was on the whole agreeably impressed with Baton Rouge, 
and think it would be a charming residence. It is one 
hundred and thirty miles above New Orleans ; and from 
this point begins the superb scenery of that part of the 
river called ''the Coast."* The moon was up when 

* " The portion of the river Mississippi, which lies towards 
the Mexican Gulf, for a distance of two hundred and fifty miles 
above its mouth, has been called the * Coast,' from the earliest 
settlement of the country. The reason why this misnomer has 
been thus given to the banks of the Southern Mississippi, is 
unknown." — Histoid of Louisiana. 



, THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 301 

we left Baton Rouge, after an hour's delay, and with 
the addition to our passengers of some forty members of 
the Legislature, most of them with French physiogno- 
mies, we resumed our voyage down the stream. 

Wishing you, Mr. , a safe voyage down the stream 

of life, I remain, 

Your faithful friend, 

Kate. 



302 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 



LETTER XXXVII. 



My Dear Mr. 



If you see a report going the rounds of certain bar- 
barous journals that I am married, I forbid your copying 
it, and command you to contradict it. It is a shame 
how some of these bachelor editors will make use of a 
young lady's name. If one protests, they say, "It is 
only a paragraph," and each one scissors away and sets 
up his type, without caring who is hurt, so that his 
paper is "racy." I am not married; and when I am, I 
desire it to be properly announced, under the head of 
Marriages, like those of other people, and not blazoned 
en paragraphe in an editor's column. Why, the bare 
idea of being thus paragraphed, is enough to prevent 
any modest young man from proposing, much less mar- 
rying, at such a venture. 

So, please, Mr. ■ , don't paragraph my marriage, 

even should you hear of it; and if you catch that ugly, 
little paragraph about me going the rounds of those ever- 
lasting echoing country papers, put your finger upon it, 
and annihilate it. It originated somewhere in Oktibbe- 
haw county, in a paper called the Independent Rifle 
Ranger, the editor of which is the intelligent gentleman 
who took a telegraph wire, stretched across the country, 
to be the Tropic of Cancer. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 303 

In my last we were just quitting Baton Rouge, the 
rural and Franco-American capital of Louisiana. The 
name of this place (Red Pole) originated in a very pretty 
buccaneering custom of the olden times of this romantic 
corner of the New World. 

''You see, ma'am," said our old pilot, who told me the 
story, — for these ancient river-gods of the Mississippi 
are tremendous story-tellers, (I don't mean fibbers, Mr. 

,) and they always have a grand, great story about 

every bend, point, island, bluiF, and pass in the river, — 
"you see, ma'am, in them old Frenchified times, folks 
didn't care 'mazin much 'bout law, nor gospel neither. 
If a man killed another, why, if there was any relative 
of the killed man, he'd take it up, and shoot the other; 
and so it went, every man his own lawyer. Well, there 
was no steamboats them days, and keelers used to float 
down from up country, filled with peltry and sich goods 
for the Orleans market. There wasn't many men on 
board to man 'em. — pr'aps seven or nine; but they kept 
well out in the middle o' the stream, at long shot from 
the Indian's arrers, and the Frenchman's gun. But 
there Avas a regular band o' pirates lived on the river 
where Baton Rouge now is, and they had a captain, and 
numbered fifty men or more — awful rascals ; every one 
on 'em — had done enough murder to hang seven honest 
Christians. This captain was the essence on 'em, all 
biled down for deviltry and wickedness; and yet they 
say he was young, almost a boy, plaguy handsome fel- 
low, with an eye like a woman, and a smile like a hyena; 
and his men were as afraid of him as death. 

"Well, he lived in a sort of castle of his own, over on 
the little rise you see, near the town, and people said he 



304 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

bad, begging your pardon, ma'am, as many wives as old 
Captain Bluebeard, and killed 'em as easy. Well, be 
bad a lookout kept on the point just in the bend, and 
there had a red pole raised to hoist a flag on. When his 
men saw a boat coming in sight, they'd hoist a green flag 
to the top o' the pole, and in the night a green lantern ; 
for he was a great friend to green color, and wore green 
velvet himself like a foreign lord. 

" When he'd see the light or the flag, he'd wind his 
silver bugle and collect his men to the boats, and when 
the keeler would get nearly opposite, he'd shout like 
twenty heathens, and dart out with his seven barges upon 
the descending craft. It was short work they made then. 
A rush, and leaping on board, a few pistol shots and 
cutlass blows, and the crew were dead or overboard. The 
prize was then towed into the cove beneath the castle, 
and plundered, and set on fire. Them were rough and 
bloody times. Miss !" 

The pilot, finding his cigar had gone out, drew a loco- 
foco match from his vest pocket, ignited it by drawing it 
across his horny thumb-nail, relighted his cigar, and 
began to scan the appearance of the sky, which looked 
fitful. But I was too much interested in my Green Cor- 
sair of the Rouge Baton to let his story end there ; so I 
said : 

" Please tell me, Mr. Bedlow, what became of this man 
and his crew?" 

" Some say he was shot in the Public Plaza, in New 
Orleans, by the Spanish Governor; but I heard an old 
pilot say, that he was assassinated by a young woman he 
had captured; and that is likely by all accounts." 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 305 

" How was it ?" I inquiretl, seeing that the old man's 
eye looked communicative. 

" On one of the craft captured there was a young girl, 
the skipper's wife, who had been married only the day 
afore the keeler left Pittsburgh, and Major Washington 
(afterwards General) they say was at the weddin', and 
gave away the bride ; for she was mighty pretty, and 
General Washington, like a true soldier, always had an 
eye to a handsome face. Well, this pirate took the craft, 
and killed or driv' overboard all hands, and he made the 
bride prisoner. He took her to his castle, and was dread- 
ful in love with her. But she saw only her husband's 
blood on his hands, and, taking a pistol from his belt, 
she shot him dead, and escaped in a boat to New Orleans, 
where the Governor gave her a thousand crowns, and 
afterwards married her. They say he took her to Spain, 
and presented her to court, and that she became one o' 
the greatest ladies in the Spanish land. That's the story 
I hearn, ma'am, but I won't vouch for its Bible truth, for 
it's mighty hard reckoning up things happening so long 



ago. 



So the old pilot left me, being called to the wheel, 
while I pondered on the story I had heard, and gazed on 

the shores about Baton Bouge with deeper interest so 

wonderfully do associations fling charms about locality. 

What a nice story some writer of imagination might 
make out of this rough-hewn narrative of the old pilot ! 
Cooper is dead, Simms a Senator, Kennedy a politician, 
Mrs. Lee Hentz an editress. Who shall we get to write 
it ? All the old novelists have left the field, and if we 
do not have more new ones come into it, there will be 
20 



306 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

no more novels. Perhaps the worhl wouhl be wiser and 
better. Who knows yes ? Who knows no ? 

Among the passengers who came on board at Baton 
Rouge was the newly elected Senator from Louisiana to 
Congress, Mr. Benjamin. Having heard much of him, 
I scanned him closely. He is a small man, but made with 
a certain compactness and dignity, that makes one forget 
his stature in his bearing. His face is very fine, dark, 
healthy, full, and pleasing. He resembles General G. P. 
Morris, as this latter gentleman was some years ago ; he 
has the same smiling eyes, agreeable mouth, and honhomie 
air. His eyes are dark and expressive, and his whole 
face indicates rather good-natured repose and amiable in- 
dolence than that high order of talent which has won for 
him, at little above thirty years of age, the high distinc- 
tion of representing the proud state of Louisiana in the 
U. S. Senate. 

The more I looked at Mr. Benjamin, the more I was 
puzzled to divine why he should have been chosen to this 
high position. I could see in his face only qualities that 
•would attach him to his friends, make him a loving 
father, and a husband greatly beloved by whatever lady 
might be so happy as to hold the holy relations of wife 
to him ; but I saw no indications of that ruling and marked 
mind, which I took it for granted he ought from his 
fame and rank to possess. While I was observing him, as 
he sat reading, some gentlemen approached and entered 
into conversation with him, upon the subject of the an- 
nexation of the suburban town of Lafayette to New 
Orleans. His opinion was referred to. His eyes opened 
and lighted. His face changed its whole character, and 
for half an hour I listened to his conversation with 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 807 

increasiiiir delio-lit and fascination. I saw and heard 
the man of talent ! I discovered in his close reasonin;^, 
his acute manner of analysis, his calm self-command, 
his thorough knowledge of his subject, his fluent and 
graceful speech, the causes of his elevation above the 
men about him. 

His voice is not good, and his size is against him; and 
when he shall first appear in the American Senate he 
will not attract any eye, save the glance of wonder at 
his youthful appearance, for he does not look above 
twenty-five. But they will find him their equal — an 
eagle among eagles. His eloquence, wisdom, and know- 
ledge of affairs will make him tell in the Senatorial 
Hall. It was Mr. Benjamin, who, in speaking of the 
progress of the age, gave utterance to this fine sentiment 
in one of his speeches in the Legislature of Louisiana: — 
"The whistle of the locomotive is finer music than the 
clarion of war, and the thunder of its wheel, than the 
roar of artillery." 

Mr. Benjamin is an Israelite. His election, therefore, 
is a practical illustration of the free institutions of our 
happy land, where theological disabilities are not known. 
It is surprising how the Jews, I mean the educated and 
talented, place themselves in the highest rank of society 
always. There is inherent in them an element of great- 
ness that irresistibly finds its noble level. We see in 
them the blood of David and Isaiah, of Abraham and 
Solomon, of Joseph and the Maccabees; their princely 
lineage is not extinct. How odd it would be if we should 
have a Jew to be President of the United States. And 
why not? Mr. Benjamin is a Senator. He is a rising 
man. He may one day hold the highest office in the 



308 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

gift of the nation. Would any man refuse to vote for 
him because he is a Jew ? But I am adventuring beyond 

my depth — so, good night,. Mr. . 

Yours truly, 

Kate. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 309 



LETTER XXXVIII. 

Chateau de Cleri. 



My dear Mr. — 

This will be the last letter I shall write you from 
this plantation, where I have been passing a few weeks 
in the most agreeable society. Our party landed here 
early on the morning after leaving Baton Rouge; for 
M. de Clery, the proprietor of this noble sugar estate, 
is a relative of the Colonel's, and the two gentlemen are 
great friends. 

But before I say any thing about my present abode, 
let me describe to you the scenery of the "coast" be- 
tween Baton Rouge and New Orleans. Present to your 
mind's eye a moving lake of dark, oak-tinted water, 
rolling onward nearly a broad mile wide, and winding 
league after league through an illimitable valley, as level 
as a billiard table, and as even all around the horizon as 
IS the edge of the sky-meeting ocean. Behold both 
banks lined with wide sugar plantations extending rear- 
ward, from a mile to a league, green with the corn-like 
leaves of the young cane, and bordered in the rear by 
impenetrable forests. 

^ In the bosom of each of these estates you see a stately 
villa, its chateau-like roof towering above a grove, and 
surrounded by colonnades, which are liedged in by orange 
and lemon trees, the rich, golden fruit hanging within 



310 THE SUNNY south; or, 

reach of the hand from the drawing-room windows. On 
one side of these chateaux, or else in the rear, glitter the 
white walls of a score or two of African cottages, which 
compose the village of the slaves, each with its little 
garden plot, and shaded by a roof-tree. In the midst 
of this neat and pretty Ethiopian village, rises a tower, 
on the summit of Avhich is swung a plantation bell, which 
at day dawn rings up the slaves to commence their labor, 
rings them to their meals through the day, and to their 
quarters at night. Not far from this negro village, 
standing massive and alone in the midst of the sugar 
fields, rise the high brick walls and tall, steeple-like 
chimneys of the sucrSrie, or sugar-house, where the cane 
is ground up, and goes through its various processes, 
from gross molasses to the purest white crystalization. 
Some of these sucreries are of great size, looking like 
universities, or some public edifice ; and they cost so much, 
that, with the other expense of establishing a sugar 
estate, it is common to say that a "man must be a rich 
cotton planter before he can commence as a poor sugar 
planter," the expense of starting a cotton plantation 
being very small compared with that for the latter; but 
the sugar planter has the advantage of striding on to 
opulence in proportion to his outlay. 

This description which I have given of a sugar estate, 
with its vast, level fields, like emerald plains, its stately 
sucr^rie, its snow-white negro village, its elegant cha- 
teau half buried in trees, will answer for that of the 
hundreds that continuously line the two shores of the 
Mississippi, between Baton Kouge and New Orleans. 
The steamer, therefore, as she moves down, seems as if 
passing through a majestic canal, with a street of villas 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 311 

on either shore. A few yards from the water runs a 
beautiful road, level and smooth, bordered on one side 
by gardens and houses, and on the other by the river. 
This road is always enlivened by carriages, horsemen, 
or foot-passengers ; for the whole line of shore, for the 
one hundred and fifty miles, is a continued unbroken 
street. When our steamer ran near one shore or the 
other, we could look in upon the inmates of the houses, 
and see them at their meals, and as we sailed past by moon- 
light, the voice of song, the thrum of the guitar, or the 
soft cadence of the flute, would float off" to us from the 
piazzas or lawns, or some bower buried in the shadows 
of the garden. The atmosphere was laden with the fra- 
grance of flowers, and the mocking-bird's joyous and 
varied melody filled the branches, to our imagination, 
with a whole aviary of singing birds. Ah, it was per- 
fect enchantment, Mr. , sailing through these lovely 

scenes beneath the broad shield of the moon casting its 
radiance of burnished silver over all. The very river, 
usually in its mildest mood champing and growling like 
a chained lion, flowed almost unruffled, like a moving 
glass surface, mirroring the light with dazzling brilliancy. 
Below us, and above us, the red and green signal lights 
of other boats, ascending and descending, added to the 
changing beauty of all, while the bright flames kept 
burning all night at the wood stations, along the shores, 
casting their long, blood-red columns far along the sur- 
face of the stream, added a certain wildness to the gene- 
ral features of the whole. 

I remained on deck to a late hour, wrapped well in 
my shawl, to guard against the dews, and enjoyed the 
novelty of the time and place, with emotions that were 



312 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

new and delightful. Occasionally the sombre tower of 
a Boman chapel, or the gray walls of a convent, (for we 
were passing through the heart of a Roman Catholic 
population,) came into view. One called the Convent 
of the Sacred Heart, "Le Sacre Coeur," was one of the 
most lovely objects I ever beheld, lighted up as its long 
corridors were by moonlight, casting half its front alter- 
nately into light and shade. 

This, I am told, is a remarkably good school of educa- 
tion, and many of the " first families" in the South have 
their daughters educated there, or at the Ursuline Con- 
vent in New Orleans — Convent des Ursulines. 

There is no doubt, Mr. , that these Roman Ca- 
tholic schools for girls are among the best we have. I 
have seen, in the South, several estimable ladies who 
were educated at this Convent, and certainly I never 
met with more intelligent, well-informed, interesting 
persons, more thoroughly accomplished ladies. 

"Ah, yes," you say objectingly, "but they are in 
danger of becoming Roman Catholics." 

Of these ladies but one is a Roman Catholic, and she 
is not very strongly grounded in that faith, usually 
attending the Episcopal church with her husband, and 
bringing up her children in this church. The danger, 
if girls are well instructed first at home, is very slight 
of their being won over to the Roman faith in these 
schools. There is a certain romantic fascination con- 
nected with this religion, which, for a time, has its influ- 
ence on an imaginative temperament, but it soon wears ofi*. 
I know and love an interesting lady, who, from her thir- 
teenth to her seventeenth year, was a pupil at the Ursu- 
line Convent. She came out a romantic Roman Catholic, 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 313 

but is now a communicant of the Presbyterian church. 
She says she " dearly loved the kind good nuns ; that 
they were gentle and devoted, and she used to love to 
sit up with one old nun, Ursula, at her vigils, about 
Christmas times, and listen to her tales of wonderful 
miracles performed by saints and the Blessed Virgin ; in 
all of which good dame Ursula had faith. She stoutly 
and piously believed " how the Virgin once came down 
and touched her cheek with her finger, and cured her 
toothache ; how St. Ursula, their patroness, pinched 
one of the sisters on the arm for sleeping at her post, 
so that the mark, in the shape of a cross, remained there 
at this hour ; how she had seen the blood from the hands 
of the picture of Christ crucified, over the high altar 
fall in great drops to the floor, and one of these drops, 
which she caught on her 'kerchief, she showed me, first 
crossing herself and me with the signs of the cross made 
backwards and forwards ! But the story that most cap- 
tivated me was how (as she was watching before the altar 
one Good Friday eve) she saw the infant boy Jesus leave 
the arms of his blessed mother, there in the picture, and 
fly with golden wings to the great picture of Christ cru- 
cified, on the right of the altar, and, with tears, wipe 
the blood from His hands, and feet, and side, and strive 
to stop its flowing, with many lamentations ! All this," 
added the intelligent lady, " I firmly believed, but they 
produced upon me no religious impression ; I listened 
to them just as I read Mrs. Kadcliffe's horrible tales of 
dungeons and bleeding nuns. Our education was not 
committed to this good, credulous dame, do not suppose, 
but there were ladies in the Convent of the most elcfjant 
manners, of the most accurate education, and minds 



314 THE SUNNY south; or, 

every way accomplished ; ladies of rank, who had left 
the brilliant society of European cities to devote them- 
selves to heaven. My chief teacher was Sister Ther^se, 

who had been in France the Countess de , and who 

IS said to have loved Napoleon, the King of Rome, and 
at his death had retired from the world. All the nuns 
were French ladies." 

When I asked this lady if she still felt attached to the 
nuns, she answered, '' Oh, yes ; I never visit New Orleans 
that I do not go and see them and they receive me in the 
most affectionate manner ! If I should ever meet with a 
reverse of fortune, and lose my husband and child, I 
should, I have no doubt, seek the calm repose and holy 
shelter of that home of my childhood ; for, when I left 
them, the Superior said, as she wept on my shoulder, 
"Daughter, if the world is adverse to thee, remember 
thou hast here always a shelter from its storms." 

I am not advocating, Mr. , the habit of educating 

Protestant girls in Roman nunneries ; all I can say in 
their favor is, that they do bestow thorough educations 
upon their pupils ; and if the Roman Catholics would 
only give up their wicked additions to Christianity, their 
worship of Mary, their prayers to Peter and Paul, their 
confessional, their idolatry of the mass, their merchan- 
dize of sins, and their other excrescences, which they 
have heaped upon the Gospel, till it is almost lost sight 
of, they would be the best teachers of youth in the world. 
But holding on to these errors, they will always keep at 
a distance the many who would patronize them. 

The Episcopalians are now taking the place once so 
prominently occupied by the Roman Catholics, as teachers 
of youth ; and the female schools kept by Episcopal 



THE SOUTHERNEIl AT HOME. 315 

clergymen, are acknowledged, even by other denomina- 
tions, to be the best schools in the United States. 

I forgot to say that my intelligent friend informed me, 
that good old Aunt Ursula always knelt down with the 
soles of her bare feet turned up to the fire, when she 
said her prayers, in order that they might, while she was 
praying and telling her beads, get nice and warm before 
she jumped into bed. I have heard that " prayers and 
provender hinder no man's journey;" but Aunt Ursula 
knew that to say one's prayers, and warm one's toes the 
whilst, hindered not a holy nun's devotions. 

Yours respectfully, 

Kate. 



316 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 



My Dear Mr. 



LETTER XXXIX. 

HATKAU DE ClERY, La. 



As these letters have been mainly descriptive of 
scenes and voyaging before I reached here, this will be 
mainly descriptive of the scenery at the Chateau. It will 
give you some idea of the domestic arrangements of the 
opulent French planters, than which nothing can be more 
agreeable. No people know so well how to enjoy this 
world as the French ; and par excellence their descend- 
ants in Louisiana, which offers to their pleasure the cli- 
mate of Eden with all its fruits, — with the " tree of 
knowledge of good and evil," I fear; for with much 
luxury, there is much evil in the world ; and, unfortun- 
ately, one cannot live magnificently, indulging all the 
goods of the earth, without " sin." 

" Luxury and sin 
In Eden did begin." 

The Chateau de Clery, where Talleyrand, Louis Phil- 
lippe, and Jackson have been guests, is a large, imposing, 
French-looking mansion, with almost an acre of roof, 
situated on the banks of the Mississippi, and embowered 
in a grove of magnolia trees, interspersed with live-oaks 
and orange trees. The house is vast in width, and made 
very long, with piazzaed wings, and all around it runs a 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 317 

broad colonnade supported by columns entwined by flow- 
ering plants. 

The view from the upper balcony, on which all the 
parlors open by Venetian windows, is very beautiful, and 
to the eye of a person born in sight of mountains, novel 
in the extreme. There extend to the right and left, as 
far as the eye can see, level sugar-fields, waving at this 
season with the green billows of the breeze-tossed cane- 
leaves. The appearance of a cane-field in this month 
being very similar to that of a field of corn in the green 
leaf, before it begins to display its tassels. Turning the 
gaze from the vast savannahs of Southern wealth, the 
lawn in front of the villa fills the eye with its shady, 
live-oak trees, its groves of orange trees, and long aisles 
of lemon and magnolias. From the broad steps of the 
entrance to the portico to the river side extends a noble 
carriage-way, bordered on each side by live-oaks. A 
fringe of orange trees runs all around a magnificent gar- 
den on the left, but the severe frosts of last winter 
have rendered them leafless ; and there they stand, gray 
and fruitless, wholly destitute of foliage, striking contrasts 
to the rich vegetation everywhere visible around them. 
The majestic Mississippi flows past in front of the lawu 
a furlong distant, and confined to its banks by the greeu 
levee, inside of which runs smoothly the carriage-road 
down to New Orleans, and along which horsemen or car- 
riages are constantly passing up and down. There is 
scarcely an hour in the day in which a steamer is not 
visible, ploughing its huge path along, with the deep roar 
of its escape-pipes and comet-like trails of black smoke 
rolling along the air astern, darkening the waves beneath, 
like the passing thunder-cloud. The opposite shore a 



318 THE SUNNY south; or, 

mile off, is visible, with its pretty villas, its groves and 
parks, and its African villages white as snow, and the 
imposing turreted sugar-houses beyond, with their tall 
towers. 

I am perfectly charmed with the scenery of this region. 
Once I fancied that no landscape could be pretty with- 
out hills or mountains in the distance; but the beautiful 
shores of Louisiana have led me to change my opinion ; 
and, although I was born in sight of the White Hills, I 
can see much to admire in the richness of these scenes, 
where there is not an eminence of any sort — not a mole 
hill. All is one vast ocean-like level ; but so diversified 
by cultivation, so ornamented by taste and art, so decked 
with noble seats, so enriched by groves, gardens, fine 
roads, and avenues, so variegated by the countless world 
of flowers, and the splendor of the foliage, and graceful- 
ness of the forms of the forest trees, its atmosphere so 
colored by the purity of the azure and golden heavens 
of morning and evening, with the ever changing glory 
of the moving river, that I forget the absence of moun- 
tains, and give my heart up to the full enjoyment of the 
paradise around me. 

You will never behold the finest portion of the Union, 

Mr. , until you have visited the "coast of Sunny 

Louisiana." The people, too, whose lot is cast in the 
midst of this mighty Eden of a hundred miles in extent, 
can appreciate the charms of their scenery. Vast wealth 
has begotten education and taste; and refinement, and 
mental accomplishments adorn most of the elegant man- 
sions that border the river. 

There are seventeen rooms in the Chateau de Clery, 
most of them of a magnificent description. There are 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 319 

two parlors, a large (Irawing-room, a vast hall, larger 
than any room in the house, and which is the general 
rendezvous of the family after dinner and tea; a sitting 
room for the ladies; a nursery, several bath rooms, a 
library, and a study room near it, for the governess and 
children; besides numerous bed-rooms and dressing- 
rooms. These rooms, the parlors and all, open out into 
the piazza, which encircles the whole mansion. They 
are all upon one floor, and every window is a glass door, 
opening with leaves. The whole edifice is raised ten 
feet from the ground, on brick pillars, leaving beneath 
the pile numerous servants and store-rooms, concealed 
from the eye of persons approaching the house by a lat- 
tice-work, covering the whole front of the lower area. 

The house is stuccoed, and tinted lemon color, while 
the numerous columns are painted white, and being 
usually enwreathed by vines, the w^hole effect is very 
fine. Carriage ways, strewn with shells, surround the 
mansion, and terminate at the stables — which are hand- 
some edifices, beneath the shade of two enormous live- 
oaks. From the rear of the gallery is visible the snowy 
houses of the African village, sixty-eight in number, 
forming a long street, bordered by trees, with a small 
garden in the rear of each dwelling. In the centre of 
this picturesque village, every house in which is the ex- 
act pattern of the other, rises the taller roof of the over- 
seer's mansion, above which still rises the towe#of the 
plantation bell, which peals out many times a day to call 
to work and to meals. 

Beyond this attractive village for slaves, where neat- 
ness and comfort prevail, rise the tall walls of the suc- 
rdrie, or sugar house, half a mile off, towards the centre 



320 THE suxxY south; or, 

of the estate. It hns tlie aspect of a huge manufactory. 
It is two hundred feet long, has tliree vast chimneys, 
one of which is seventy feet in height, and twenty feet 
broad at the base. The whole structure is white, and 
looks from the house, as Isabel describes it, like some 
handsome convent. From the villa, a smooth road (of 
course level as a floor) runs to it, and indeed, passing it, 
extends to the cypress forest two miles beyond it. This 
road is lined with hedges of the flowering Cherokee rose, 
and is our favorite morning gallop, as the Levee road, 
along the banks of the Father of Waters, is our favorite 
evening drive. 

To-morrow we leave this lovely place for the city ; and 

I will tell you a secret, Mr. , which you mustn't 

breathe for the world. The eldest son of M. De Clery, 
who has only last year returned from Paris, has fallen 
in love with Isabel, and they are to be married. We go 
to the city to select the bridal apparel and gifts, &c. 

The young gentleman is extremely handsome, four- 
and-twenty years old, with a cultivated mind, and a good 
heart, and unexceptionable temper. This last qualifica- 
tion is the most important. If a husband is not amiable, 
dear me! what a wretched woman his bride must be! 
Girls should see if their suitor is good tempered, and if 
he is not, have nothing to say to him. If a man is bad 
tempered to his sister or mother, be 8ure he will be still 
more ^ to his wife, because his wife is more completely 
in his power. As a young man treats his mother and 
his sister, he will treat his wife. Young ladies! take 
this as an unfailing test, from your friend, Kate. 

M. de Clery has a fine temper ; and as he is also very 
rich, and a sincere believer in Christianity, Isabel will 



THE SOITTIIERNER AT HOME. 321 

make a good match, and doubtless be very happy in the 
dangerous lottery of matrimony. But I am in tears as 
I write, at the thought of losing her; and the dear 
colonel looks through tearful eyes upon her, and kissing 
her, bids " God's blessing on her." It is a hard struggle 
for the father, though he desires the union. 

The marriage of Isabel will change all our plans for 
the summer. The whole wedding party will proceed, 
soon after the nuptials, to the North, and the bridegroom 
and bride will embark for Europe. You ask what will 
become of me? A very sensible question, good Mr. 
. With Isabel's engagement yesterday, my voca- 
tion as governess went. The future is all before me 
where to choose. But the question of the future remains 
to be settled after we return from the city, where, as I 
said, we go to-morrow, to be absent a week. It is pro- 
bable I shall accompany the bridal party North, and 
take the opportunity of visiting the humble home of my 
childhood, amid the green hills of New England — for, 
with all my attachment to the South, and the warm- 
hearted Southern people, my heart, 

"Dear New England, turns ever to thee." 

P. S. My next letter will be from New Orleans, from 
which I hope to write you something interesting. 

21 Kate. 



322 THE SUNNY south; or, 



LETTER XL. 

New Orleans, La. 



My Dear Mr. 



This is the first moment which I can call "my 
own," since I arrived in this splendid bedlam of a city, 
the diurnal roar of which, although it is nearly eleven 
o'clock at night, has not yet ceased. Carriages are 
swiftly rattling past, over the rocky streets, taking thea- 
tre and party-goers home; the night-policeman's staff 
echoes hollowly on the banquette, as he signalizes to his 
fellow-guardians of the city ; the wild song of a group of 
bacchanals swells not unmusically up into the air, and 
penetrates my open window; while from an opposite 
drawing-room comes the. rich soprano voice of some 
maiden singing at the piano^ — perhaps to a late-lingering 
lover. 

Fatigued with the sweet excitement of the day in 
choosing her bridal attire, Isabel sleeps softly within the 
snowy folds of the lace musquito bar (which guards every 
bed in this climate) ; and as excitement always renders 
me wakeful, I embrace the hour till midnight to give you 
some idea of this great city of the South — this magnifi- 
ficent key of the Mississippi, which stands, as Constanti- 
nople at the entrance of the Bosphorus, the gate of a 
commercial interior, the value of which ''no man can 
number." 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 323 

In mj last letter, dated at the sugar estate of M. de 
Clerj, I briefly stated the happy engagement of my dear 
pupil Isabel to young Isdiore, his son, and that we were 
to come to the city to make preparations for the wed- 
ding. 

At first it was determined that we should go down in 
one of the handsome packets that daily descend the 
river ; but it was finally decided that we should take the 
carriages, and drive down by the Levee road, the dis- 
tance being easily accomplished in two or three hours. 
At six o'clock in the morning, therefore, the horses were 
at the door, and as we had breakfast early, in order to 
take advantage of the cool air of the early day, we were 
soon on our way, rolling smoothly along over one of the 
most delightful of roads. 

I have already mentioned the novelty and beauty of 
both of the green shores of the Mississippi, — how a ver- 
dant embankment five feet high borders each side, to 
prevent overflows; and how within this embankment is 
the river-road, following in and out every curve of the 
embanked shore, and level as a race-course track. Thus, 
one tiding along this road has constantly the green 
bank, or Levee, on one side, with the mile-wide river 
flowing majestically by, bearing huge steamers past on 
its tawny bosom. On the other hand are hedges sepa- 
rating gardens, lawns, cottages, villas, and emerald cane- 
fields, with groups of live-oaks, magnolias, lemon, and 
banana trees interspersed. For miles, a,ll the day long, 
the traveler can ride through a scene of beauty and ever 
lively interest. At no moment is he out of sight of the 
water, with its moving fleets, and the opposite shore 
beautiful with residences, groves, and gardens; at no mo- 



324 THE siixNY south; or, 

ment is he not passing the tasteful ahode and grounds 
of some planter, bordering the road-side. 

If this drive is so attractive to one on the land, 
what must the scenery appear to the eyes of the passen- 
gers on steamers sailing from sunrise to sunset through 
it ? But I cannot attempt to convey to you a just con- 
ception of these gorgeous river coasts of Louisiana. It 
is not the charming landscape alone that lends them 
their attraction to a northern eye, but the delicious 
climate, which bathes every thing, and in which every 
object seems to float. 

You may judge that our ride towards the city was 
greatly enjoyed by me. I could not help, at the time, 
feeling a sensation of awe steal over me, as I looked from 
the carriao-e window and saw the level of the river higher 
than we were ; for we had to rise up in the carriage as 
w^e rode along to overloolc the Levee, when w^e could 
see that the river was within a foot even with it on 
the outer side, while the road over w^hich our wheels 
rolled was four feet lower than its surface on the inner 
side ; in a word, we were riding with a wall of water, 
kept from overwhelming us, and the fields, villas, and 
whole country, only by the interposing bank of the Le- 
vee, from four to six feet in height, and yet this guard 
of heaped earth was for hundreds of leagues enough to 
confine the monarch of waters within his bounds, so that 
the people dwelt in security upon his borders. 

There are, however, times of terror, when the vast 
river, swelling to unwonted height, presses with irresis- 
tible power against some weaker part of this barrier, 
and forces a passage into the road beneath. At first, 
the breach may not be larger than a stream of water 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 325 

from a liose, and can easily be stopped with cotton-bales, 
or bags of earth, if at once applied. Eut when at night 
one of these crevices (which they call here ''crevasses," 
when they become large) begins to form unseen by any 
watchful eye, it rapidly enlarges, till what at first could 
have been stopped by a schoolboy's dam, in half an hour 
becomes strong enough to turn a wheel, and in an hour 
plunges a roaring cataract twenty yards wide, rushing 
like a mill-race, and deluging road, gardens, fields, and 
pastures. The thunder of its fall, at length, awakes the 
planter or his sleepy slaves ; the alarm-bell is rung out, 
as if for fire, and the whole coast is soon awake and alive. 
One plantation bell after another takes up the note 
of terror, and for miles is heard their afi-righted clamor, 
accompanied by the shouts of hundreds of slaves, hasten- 
ing from all quarters to the scene of danger; for the 
peril of a crevasse is 2, common peril to all, for only stop- 
ping the incipient Niagara can save the whole region 
down to the Gulf, for a thousand square miles, from 
overflowing and ruinous devastation. 

The scene at the stopping of a crevasse is only equalled 
by that at putting out a conflagration. The constant 
arrival, spurring at mad speed, of planters, followed by 
gangs of half-naked Africans, armed with spades and 
gunny-bags filled with dirt, the loud commands, the louder 
response, the tramp of hoofs and of men's feet, the 
darkness of the night, the glare of torches, and the'roar 
of the ceaselessly plunging and enlarging torrent, as 
described to me by Isidore de Clery, must be both su- 
blime and fearful. Imagine the reservoir on Fairmount 
to burst its sides some fine night, and the scenes that 
would follow in the neighborhood of the path its wild 



826 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

waters would make, in the efforts of the people to stop 
them, and you will be able to form some picture in your 
mind of a crevasse^ and its destructive effects in the level 
country of Louisiana. 

Not long ago a crevasse opened in the Levee not far 
from New Orleans, and became so alarming that steamers, 
laden with hundreds of men, sailed from the city for the 
place, and it was not finally stopped until fifty leagues 
square of the richest portion of the country had become 
submerged, and a hundred sugar planters ruined. 

Nevertheless, in the face of all these facts, we rode 
calmly and securely on, with the river wall four feet 
higher than our road, thinking of any thing but cre- 
vasses, and enjoying the scenery that was ever changing 
its features, and increasing in beauty at every change. 

Our cortege consisted of two carriages, in one of which 
rode the colonel, Isabel, and the senior M. de Clery, and 
Mademoiselle Marie Yictoire La Blanche, his niece, a 
beautiful, olive-cheeked, dark-eyed Louisianaise, who was 
to be one of Isabel's bridesmaids. In another carriage, 
which was an open phseton, was Isidore, the happy and 
handsome affianc^ and Miss Conyngham. Why they 
placed this young gentleman under my charge, separat 
ing him for the drive from Isabel, I can't tell ; unless it 
was a pretty piece of tyranny, allowable, perhaps. At 
any rate, it was the plan of M. de Clery, the senior, who 
said, " The young folks will be enough in each other's 
society after they are married, so let them ride in differ- 
ent carriages now. Miss Kate will be so kind as to keep 
the young gentleman in proper decorum." 

Dear me ! I — a young, giddy girl of twenty scarcely, 
to be selected by two gray-headed gentlemen — to be the 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 827 

guardian of a young gentleman of three-and-twenty, as 
handsome as Adonis ! So, what with answering Isidore's 
hundred and one questions, all about what I knew of 
Isabel ever since I had known her, and looking at the 
scenery, I was kept very busy, — for the scenery con- 
stantly challenged my attention, and the lover would 
constantly talk of Belle. By the time we reached the 
city I was half in love with him myself; and I then re- 
collected how that Isabel had said to me, smilingly, when 
I was seated in the carriage, 

*'Take care of your heart dear Kate!" 

But I hear an awful clamor throughout the city that 
compels me to stop. A deep-mouthed tocsin is ringing 
out "Fire! fire! fire!" as plain as a human voice could 
utter it ; and a score of lesser bells reply, even as a huge 
ban-dog, alarmed in the night by a prowling burglar, 
opens his deep-mouthed bay, while Tray, Blanche, and 
Sweetheart, and all the little dogs, in every key, chime 
in, in confused, discordant uproar ; so are all the bells 
of the city clamoring, and the streets, which had begun 
to sink into midnight quiet, are once more thundering 
with the artillery-like wheels of engines, hastening, amid 
a Babel of voices, to the scene of conflagration, the light 
of which, reflected from an opposite tower, already glares 
redly and balefully into my window. 

I will now say "Good Night," but not without a 
heartfelt prayer for those who shall be made houseless 
and destitute by this fire, which rages more and more 
terribly, lighting up all the city roofs like a burning 
crater. 

Yours, 

K. C. 



328 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 



LETTER XLI. 

New Orleans, La. 



My Dear Mr. 



The impressions which are made upon one's mind 
and memory on first going into a large city, are indel- 
lible. I shall never forget mine on approaching the city 
in our carriage, about three hours after leaving Chateau 
de Clery. 

New Orleans is wholly unlike any other American 
metropolis. Its aspect is foreign, and Erench decidedly. 
When within six miles, we entered the pretty suburbs of 
Carrolton, where the road is a continuous street until 
lost in the labyrinth of the city avenues. 

Instead of continuing along this road we alighted at 
the railway depot, leaving our carriages to i^eturn home 
with the coachmen, our intention being to go back by 
the river. The cars run to the city every half hour, and' 
our party had no sooner got seated than we were off like 
an eagle shrieking as he flies. Oh, what dreadful noises 
those horrid steam whistles make ! So shrill and loud 
and terrific, that I did not wonder to see cows, horses, 
mules, dogs, ducks, geese, and chickens turn, scamper, 
fly, trot, gallop, and scatter to the right and left in con- 
sternation. 

There were three Indians in the next car, one of 
whom, in an old scarlet frock coat, fancifully fringed, 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 329 

placed his hands to his mouth in rapid succession, and 
echoed the cry of the engine v.histle ahnost as shrilly. 
We all looked into the car to see what it was. He stood 
up and repeated the cry, saying with an air of tipsy 
satisfaction — 

" War-whoop ! 3Ie war-whoop — he war-whoop. " 
What more he might have said was abruptly cut off 
by the conductor pushing him by the shoulder, and 
thrusting him with a huge oath roughly into a car still 
farther forAvard; and driving two patient- looking Indian 
women laden with baskets after him. Ah. for the poor 
Indian ! 

* * * "Where once he trod, 
Lord of the earth and free as air, • 
He now creeps cowering like a cur, 

* * -X- * ^ ^ 

Cursed of the white man, and not where 

To lay his head where once he reigned a king." 

The Indian is every where the same from Maine to 
Louisiana. They look alike, their pursuits are alike, 
their degradation equal. These were wandering rem- 
nants of the Choctaw tribe ; for many linger about the 
scenes of their father's deeds and resting places of their 
bones, and support their precarious existence by fishing 
and basket-making. I have seen many of them in the 
city since, going about selling little bundles of sassafras 
root or herbs gathered in the woods. The women never 
smile, look sickly and suffering ; while the men are gaily 
dressed and keep in a state of lordly drunkenness, the 
only affinity to "nobility" left to these poor lords of the 
forest. 



330 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

I fear America has much sin lying at her door for her 
neglect of her Indian children. 

Our car contained a strange medley. Directly in front 
of me sat a handsome yellow "lady," her head sur- 
mounted by an orange and scaidet plaid handkerchief, 
bound about it Turkish-turban fashion ; a style that pre- 
vails here among the Creole servants. She had in her 
ears a pair of gold ear-rings, as large as a half-dollar, 
plain and massive; she wore a necklace of gold beads, 
hanging from which was a cornelian cross, the most 
beautiful thing I ever saw ; upon her neck was a richly- 
worked black lace scarf ; her dress was plain colored 
silk, made in the costliest manner. Her olive hands, 
which had very tapering fingers and remarkably oval 
nails, were covered with rings, chiefly plain gold ones. 
In one hand she held a handsome parasol, and the other 
fondled a snow-white French poodle upon her lap, said 
poodle having the tips of its ears tied with knots of pink 
ribbon, and a collar of pink silk quilled, and made like 
a ruff, while the end of its tail was adorned with a bow 
of blue ribbon, in the tastiest style ; and, as if his poo- 
dleship were not sufiiciently decorated to be taken to the 
city to visit its town cousins, it had a nice bow of red 
satin ribbon tied about each of its four ancles. This 
luxurious little fellow took it quite in high dudgeon 
that I should scan him so closely, and putting his little 
pink feet upon her shoulder, he shot fire out of his deep- 
set black eyes, and began to yelp at me most outrage- 
ously. 

"-A has, Fidele, fi doncT' exclaimed his mistress, in 
certainly one of the most mimical voices in the world ; and 
gently patting the ferocious little aristocrat on the 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 331 

shoulder, she tried to quell its expressions of hostility 
towards me. Finding that it would not be pacified, she, 
turning round, and fixing upon me a pair of magnificent 
eyes, and a face of surprising and unlooked-for beauty 
— a strange and indescribable sort of beauty — she said: 

" Pardon, Ma'mselle ! La b^te s'est mal comportd 
envers vous. Tranquilliez vous, Fidele ! Ne vous in- 
quietez pas !" 

Here she kissed her spiteful little favorite, and gradu- 
ally soothed its irascibility ; but it would occasionally, 
nevertheless, glance at me suspiciously, and utter 2i petite 
growl in its little white fleecy throat. The seat on my left 
contained a French gentleman, aged and thin, with a 
huge gray moustache overshadowing his large mouth. 
He wore a long nankin blouse (a sort of loose frock-coat) 
and a yellow vest with bright buttons, gray trowsers and 
drab gaiters — altogether a peculiar costume, especially 
with his hat, which had a brim so narrow that two flies 
could not walk arm-in-arm around it, while the gray, 
weather-worn crown rose upward into the air above him 
like a rusty stove-pipe. The intense gravity of his coun- 
tenance attracted my attention. He was as grave and 
dignified as a whole bench of supreme judges ; yet he 
carried in a little paste-board box, with slits cut at in- 
tervals therein, a little, half-fledged mocking-bird ; car- 
ried it as tenderly as a little child would have done ; 
watched and guarded it against the jolts of the cars, the 
sunshine in the Avindow, and the draught of air when the 
door was left open by the conductor. His whole heart 
seemed to be wrapped up in that miserable little bird, 
which sat trembling in the cage so pitifully, that I felt 



332 THE suxNY south; or, 

like asking him to let me take it out and nestle it between 
the palms of my hands. But hear him talk to it ! 

" Pauvre petite ! Ah, bonne, bonnette ! Yous avez 
bon voyage. Voyez vous les arbres ? Voyez vous les 
jolis champs ? Voyez vous les jolis oiseaux ?" 

He would then hold the little wretch up at the window 
and point out the trees, and fields, and flying birds to it, 
exactly as if it could understand every word he said, and 
vastly enjoyed the ^'bon voyage" and the sight from the 
window. 

The cage had evidently been made by him, impromptu, 
with his penknife, and was a very ingenious affair ; and 
in the top of it was stuck a small rose-bud and sprig of 
thistle. The little bird was evidently his pride and joy. 
He had perhaps caught it in the fields, and was taking it 
home to his grand-children, or had purchased it for some 
favorite. 

It was an interesting sight to see a tall, warlike, mus- 
tachioed man thus giving his whole mind to such a little 
thing as the poor, chirping, crying young one in the cage ; 
but it was beautiful to contemplate the scene. It showed 
a good heart and kind ; that he was affectionate and do- 
mestic, and must love children and all others of God's 
creatures that are helpless. I regarded him with respect. 

Finding the little bird did not seem to enjoy the 
scenery, he took a piece of cake from his pocket and 
began to tempt it to eat a crumb from the end of his 
finger, w^hich he thrust into the cage. ^' Mangez, pe- 
tite ! Mangez le bon gateau I" 

In a few minutes the cars stopped at his place, and he 
arose, and covering the cage carefully with his handker- 
chief, left the cars with it ; and, as we started on, I saw 



THE SOUTHERNER, AT HOME. 333 

him approach the gate of a pretty Creole cottage, half 
hidden in grape vines. Several children and their youth- 
ful mother came to meet him. '* Voyez, voyez !" he cried, 
with great glee, holding up the cage. " Voila I'oiseau, 
mes enfants. Nous chantons comme les anges !" and, 
opening the little cage, he was showing them his prize, 
when the prisoner made a spring from between his thumb 
and finger, and fluttering its little winglets, went sailing 
through the air four feet from the ground, and threaten- 
ing to knock itself against it every minute. 

One general outcry escaped the confounded group, 
one double deep base mingled with altissimos; and as 
the cars were whirling us beyond view, I saw the whole 
party, headed by the tall, gray-headed French grandpa, 
start in full cry after the hopping and flying truant. 

But I reserve the rest of the ride into the city for my 
next. Till then, faithfully 

Yours, 
Kate 



334 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 



LETTER XLII. 

St. Louis Hotel, New Orleans. 



Dear Mr. 



My last I closed somewhat abruptly, as you per- 
ceived, in the midst of a description of our railroad ride 
to this city. I will now resume the notes of my journey 
where I broke off, as I wish you to have a distinct im- 
pression of the scenes in the entrance to New Orleans, 
by the cars. 

As we approached the city through a level landscape, 
level as a lake, we flew past now a garden on this side, 
now a Spanish-looking little villa on that, the gardens 
richly foliaged with lemon and banana trees, and far 
over-stretching verandahs shut in by curtains to keep 
out the sun from the piazzas. Such gardens and villas 
one after another in great numbers we passed for a mile 
or so, when the houses grew more numerous, the gardens 
narrower and narrower, and shops and small tenements 
were crowding together, where once had stood the orange, 
lemon, and banana tree. Side-walks of brick, as we 
darted forward, now took the place of green way-side 
paths by walls and fences, and stone pavements were 
substituted for natural dirt roads. People began to grow 
more numerous on the walks, carts laden with brick and 
lumber, carts laden with vegetables and butcher's meat, 
bread carts, and ice carts, and omnibuses (those un- 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 835 

sightly vehicular monstrosities) rolled, gallopped, rattled, 
thundered, raced, and rumbled past, and cross-street 
wise, making it impossible almost to hear one's self speak 
for the noise. Onward our car wheels bore us, deeper 
and deeper into the living heart of the city. Nothing 
but small shops were now to be seen on either hand, with 
purchasing throngs going in and coming out of them, 
while myriads of children seemed to swarm about the 
doors, crawl along the curb-stones, paddle in the gutters, 
and yell miscellaneously everywhere. I never saw so 
many children in my life. Some were black, some not so 
black, some yellow, some golden skinned, some tawny, 
some delicate milk and gamboge color, and some pure 
white, at least, such spots of their faces as the dirt suf- 
fered to be visible, seemed to promise an Anglo-saxon 
complexion underneath. The major part, however, were 
olive brown, and plainly of French extraction; and I 
could hear the bright black-eyed little urchins jabbering 
French, to a marvel of correct pronunciation that would 
have amazed a school girl. 

At length the houses grew more stately, the streets 
more genteel, the crowds more elegantly attired, and the 
cars stopped, and we were in New Orleans ! 

In an instant we were besieged by a very great num- 
ber of polite gentlemen with whips in their hands and 
eager visages thrust up to the window. 

" Fiacre, madame !" " Hack, sir !" *' Carriage, ma'am." 
"Will yer ladyship's bright eyes jlst look at my iligant 
haack?" insinuated a snub-nosed son of Green Erin, 
with an old fur cap cocked on his head, the visor behind, 
giving him a superlatively impudent look. 

Seeing me app^-ently hesitate, he added with an elo- 



836 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

quent intonation in his rich brogue. "It is vilvit 
kushioned, m'im, and glass windies intirelj, Miss, and 
I've got the naatest tame dat'll take ye where ye wist in 
no time at all, at all !" 

At this juncture Isidore came to conduct me to a 
carriage with the rest of our party. As we descended 
the steps of the car, a Chinese, in his small tea-cup of a 
blue cap, presented to my irresistible temptation, as he 
thought, some beautiful kites made of blue, yellow, green, 
and crimson tissue paper in the shape of superb butter- 
flies. They were two feet across the wings, and ele- 
gantly constructed of light wire bent into the desired 
shape, and covered with the paper. He asked but 
twenty-five cents a piece, and they looked so invitingly 
pretty, that I was half tempted to buy one for myself, 
recollecting my girlish days, when I used to fly kites, 
fish, and play ball with my brothers ; but before I made 
up my mind to this speculation, a slender sloe-eyed 
quadroon girl of sixteen, with a superb smile, off'ered me 
a delicious bouquet, from a basket filled with them, which 
she was adroitly balancing on her head. The rival John- 
China-man interposed one of his handsome kites between 
my eyes and the bouquet, and while I was bewildered 
which to choose, a Frenchman thrust nearer my face 
than all, his forefinger, on which was perched a splendid 
parrot, with a nose like the Duke of Wellington's. 

"Puy de kitee, Meesee ! twenty-vive cen'," eagerly 
urged the Chinese. 

"Mussier ne veu' 'pas le bouquet pour mamsel?" 
softly and musically entreated the girl, of Isidore, in her 
Creole patois. 

" Buy pretty Pollee. Achetez mofi joli oiseau I" 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 337 

^'Pollj wantee cracker," screamed tlie parrot in my 
ear. 

Thanks to the carriage-step at hand, by which I was 
enabled to secure a flight from the scene; and Isidore 
laughingly handed me the bouquet, which he had pur- 
chased of the quadroon, w^ho thanked him with a bril- 
liant smile. 

Having purchased one of the persevering Chinaman's 
beautiful kites to take North, as a curiosity for Yankee 
boys, and implored the parrot-man to take his noisy, 
squalling, crooked-beaked, saucy-eyed, knowing-headed 
bird out of my sight, the carriage, at length, moved on 
out of the throng ; and after a few minutes' rattling 
through rough paved streets, narrow and foreign-look- 
ing, we reached the St. Louis hotel, an edifice that 
looks like a superb Parisian palace — and a palace it is, 
as we experience in all its internal appointments and 
comfortable elegances of arrangement. 

Respectfully yours, 

Kate. 
22 



338 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 



LETTER XLIII. 

Hotel, St. Louis. 

Dear Sir : — How shall I describe to you this city, 
so as to convey to you any thing like an adequate idea 
of it ? It is unlike any other city in the Union, being 
foreign in air, in customs, and mainly in population. 
Level as the water level of the river, above the surface 
of which it is elevated but a few inches, it extends for 
five miles along a grand bend of the river, which, dou- 
bling on its course, sweeps at this point northward, and 
then southward again, forming a majestic yoke, or letter 
U, and hence its name Crescent City. The front of the 
city is defended from floods by the Levee, which is raised 
a few feet higher than the general plane of its site. 
This Levee is the grandest quay in the world. Tyre 
nor Carthage, Alexandria nor Genoa, those aforetime 
imperial metropoles of merchant princes, boasted no quay 
like the Levee of New Orleans. 

Picture to your mind's eye an esplanade or open front, 
a quarter of a mile broad, shaped like a new moon, its 
two horns four miles apart ! Behold this noble space 
built up on one side by blocks of lofty brick or stone- 
stores, warehouses, steam-presses, hotels, cotton and 
sugar magazines, in which the mightiest energies, talents, 
and riches of commerce have their fields of daily activity. 
Interminably, farther than the eye can follow them, in 
their recession in the distance, they extend, range sue- 



THE SOUTIIERXER AT HOME. 339 

ceeding to range. Opposite tliis league-front of stores 
lie the various vessels which are the winged servants of 
the princely merchants, who occupy these commercial 
palaces. The whole Levee bank, from horn to horn of 
the magnificent crescent, is lined w^ith shipping and 
steamers. 

First are the cotton ships, which extend three in a 
tier for a mile and a half in unbroken line, their inter- 
mingled masts presenting the aspect of a wintry forest 
stripped of its leaves. I have been along the whole 
Levee in a carriage, and seen all this with my own eyes, 
and as I gazed I wondered at the sublime spectacle. A 
half league mass of ships! those proud ocean eagles 
which swept the clouds with their snowy crests, which 
rose defiant to the down pressing storm, tossed the ocean 
spray upon their necks, as the horse of the desert flings 
his mane, whose path has been sublimely held amid tem- 
pests and displays of the Almighty's power, whose swift- 
ness, glory, and beauty of motion and form mocked that 
of the sea-bird — to see these once free and independent 
creatures, (ships to me always seem living things with 
life in them, like the wheels in Ezekiel's vision,) — to see 
those superb ocean messengers stripped of their white 
plumage, tied by the bit to wooden wharves, like newly 
captured elephants to strong stakes — to see them secured 
and motionless, fast bound in chains of iron, prisoners 
and captives, all their winged swiftness and their late 
ocean freedom changed into captivity, made me feel sad. 
I gazed on them with pity and sympathy. Yet, cap- 
tives as they were, tied in threes as I beheld them, 
divested of their white wings as they were, there was 
still left much of the spirit of their former grandeur. 



340 THE suxNY south; or, 

Their dark hulls, huge and massive, rising high out of 
the water and overtopping the Levee houses, and which 
I had to gaze up at, their curving bows and tall bul- 
warks, their noble outlines and vast proportions still 
lent them a dignity which commanded respect. 

"Ah, brave ships," I said, "though bound fast now in 
port like caged lions, the day will come again, when, laden 
with the silvery fleece of this sunny land, and the glit- 
tering crystals of its emerald sugar fields, ye will once 
more spread your broad wings to the breeze of heaven, 
your now motionless keels will once more cleave the 
blue waves of the illimitable ocean, and again you shall 
try your oaken strength with the tornado, and do mighty 
battle with the billows. Conquering and still conquer- 
ing your pathway, you shall traverse the farthest seas; 
some of you penetrate the icy Baltic, to lay your trea- 
sures at the feet of the Russian Czar ; some of you pass 
beneath the frowning shadow of Gibraltar, and win your 
way to far Egypt, and unlade your precious burden on 
the quay of the city, where once reigned Joseph and the 
Pharaohs ; some of you less ambitious, shall follow the 
curving shores of our vast republic, and passing the 
Vineyard and the Capes of New England, shall fold your 
canvass within sound of the church bell of my mother's 
native town. 

As we rode slowly along, gazing on the poor tied up 
ships, I noticed that they bore flags of every land; for a 
sea captain had died that morning, and all the vessels in 
port had their colors at half mast, a very touching ex- 
pression of nautical sorrow ; for a flag not completely 
hoisted, is, in the symbolic language of seamen, in- 
verted, a signal of distress at sea, of sorrow in port. My 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 34] 

old friend, the Bengal captain, (who has gone to sea 
again, and is now away off in India,) carried this half 
masting idea so far, that being in mourning for a rela- 
tion, with black crape on a w^hite General Jackson hat, 
he always wore the strip just half way up his hat, (half- 
mast, as he called it,) with a streamer half a foot long, 
floating out behind. The dear good old tease of a Ben- 
gal tiger ! I wonder if he will ever write me that long 
letter he promised me he would do, and tell me all about 
his adventures in those far away lands and seas. If he 

does keep his promise, Mr. , the letter is yours to 

put in print. 

Some of the ships were Swedish, blunt, square-bowed, 
high-shouldered, buffalo-looking hulks, with white-headed 
and fair-skinned men on board, in blue and red woolen 
caps. Their pretty flag was a white cross on a blue 
ground, with a scarlet field in the upper corner, orna- 
mented with a small white St. Andrews's cross, (the let- 
ter X.) I thought of sweet Jenny Lind, as I looked at 
the flag of her country, which I felt would have brought 
tears of joy into her eyes, to have seen it here, so far 
away from her home-land. 

How much Sweden owes to Jenny Lind in song. Miss 
Bremer in letters, and Thorwaldsen in sculpture! But 
for these three gifted children of her hills, Sweden, as 
before their birth, would be obscurely known to the 
world. But they have placed her first in music, first in 
letters, first in art; so that now she takes her proper in- 
tellectual rank with the cultivated nations of Europe. 
If three persons can give glory to their native land in 
the eyes of the world, how carefully ought every ind? 



842 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

vidual to live, that he may peradventure reflect honor 
upon his own nation ! No one is insignificant. 

There were four Swedish ships, and two Norwegian 
barques, showing in their flag a large blue cross on a red 
ground, the flag of Ole Bull's land. A Portuguese brig, 
with her pretty green and white striped colors, I also 
saw. There were half a dozen Russian ships, with their 
flags striped with red, white, and blue. The most part 
of the vessels displayed the star-spangled banner, flashing 
and glittering above the Yankee decks, as saucily as though 
it felt itself at Lome on its own soil. The red, sanguinary- 
looking ensign of old England, with its double cross in 
one corner of a blue ground, floated proudly and gloomily 
above full a hundred ships ; for, next to the commerce 
of our own ships, that of England stands confessed. 
The tri-colored flag of France was visible here and there, 
and the yellow and red colors of Spain flaunted above 
inferior-looking vessels. 

Of the Yankee ships, nearly all were from New Y^ork, 
and ports north of it, the half being from New England. 
The handsomest ships which I saw were from Bath, 
Maine; and a captain, to whom the colonel spoke, told 
me that the best ships in the world are built on the Ken- 
nebec river in Maine. Those which I savr and admired, 
were certainty models of grace, majesty, and strength. 
They looked like peaceful frigates, tauied down, and 
broken into the merchant service. After leaving the 
long range of ships, we came to the part of the Levee 
where the Mississippi, Ohio, Missouri, and all Northern 
and interior steamers moor. For half a mile it was a 
grand display of snow-white hulls, round-topped wheel- 
houses, tall, black, iron chimneys, some belching forth 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 343 

clouds of murky smoke, tliat rolled and rolled over the 
city like threatening thunder-clouds, only more awful- 
looking. I never saw anything so dreadfully sable as 
these volumes of smoke, which rise from furnaces crammed 
with pine knots and tar-barrels. 

After the steamboats, come the small Spanish and 
Creole coasters, and the Texas and Florida trading 
schooners, which are very numerous, with swarthy crews 
in red shirts, knife in belt, and with huge beards. Then 
we came to the Ocean steamers, those mammoth sea-dan- 
dies that go steaming about the w^orld smoking their rusty 
sheet-iron cigars, and leading a very fast life, much to 
the scandal of the sober-going merchantmen. These 
steamers, with their jet-black aspect, and odd-looking, 
shark-headed bows and huge dimensions, have a very de- 
moniacal appearance ; and if I had been a timid person 
at all, I should have hesitated about venturing within 
their capacious power, recollecting how Jonah once came 
too near a sea-monster of a similar species, and was swal- 
lowed whole. 

Nevertheless we went on board ; but as they were tak- 
ing in coal with scores of wheel-barrows, everything was 
dusty, noisy, and disagreeable ; and painters being at 
work in the cabin, all things were upside down, like 
a New England scouring day. So we beat a retreat, and 
continued our ride two miles further, again coming upon 
a chain of ships nearly as extensive as the first we had 
seen ; both sides of the city being flanked by these wooden 
marine walls and forests of masts. 

Imagine every ship engaged in lading, or unlading, 
every steamer discharging, or taking in freight and pas- 
sengers, and every third one letting oflf noisy steam and 



344 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

belching sraoke ; while steamboats constantly arrive 
from the river above, and round to and land, or depart 
amid the roars of escape pipes, and the clamor of bells. 
Imagine four thousand drays aiding in loading and un- 
loading these thousand vessels, and moving in all direc- 
tions along the Levee, till its whole surface is alive with a 
ceaseless maelstrom of motion, accompanied by a noise 
of hoofs, wheels, and voices, almost deafening in their 
aggregated thunderings. Imagine one broad field of 
such commercial life, four miles in unbroken extent, and 
you will have some idea of the ''Levee" at New Orleans. 
No city on earth can present such a striking scene, — and 
all at one glance of the eye I No quay-view anywhere 
could convey such an impression to the mind of the ob- 
server, of the power, and might, and action, and energy 
of commerce. 

But as I gazed upon all this, I could not help recalling 
the terrible chapter in Revelations addressed to Babylon, 
" that great city wherein w^as made rich all that had 
ships in the sea, by reason of her costliness." 

For her luxuries and sins, Babylon was terribly judged ! 
Will this city remember God, and glorify Him "w^ho 
maketh the merchants of the earth to wax rich," when 
they say, " What city is like unto this great city ? Shall 
she also be made desolate, and her crown be removed 
and cast into the dust ?" God forbid ! Let Religion go 
hand in hand with, and sanctify Commerce, and this city 
need not fear what otherwise it should apprehend, — the 
doom of all those hitherto which have forgotten from 
whose Hand " cometh all prosperity." 

Your friend, 

K. C. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 345 



LETTER XLIV. 



Dear Mr. : 

This is the last day we are to remain in this Franco- 
American Metropolis of the South. What with shopping 
with dear Bell, in assisting her in making bridal pur- 
chases — with riding at twilight on the magnificent "shell 
road," with visiting the cathedrals, and churches, and 
public edifices, and above all, for interest, the old ceme- 
teries of the city, my time has been fully occupied. 

Our hotel is in the French quarter of the city, and a 
grand, French Tuilleries' looking affiiir it is. It is 
under the superintendance of Mr. Mudge, who is a native 
of New England, was formerly a dry-goods merchant in 
Portland, and being unsuccessful in business, came out 
here many years ago to make his fortune, and, unlike 
many who go from home for this purpose, he has emi- 
nently succeeded. From being only a salaried assistant 
in the office of the St. Charles, he rose by his probity, 
industry, talents, and genoag, to become its proprietor ; 
and now is manager temporarily of this until the St. 
Charles is rebuilt. He is a gentleman of fine manners, 
a pleasant countenance, and has a most interesting and 
charming family. To manage a hotel now-a-days, re- 
quires very much the sort of talent requisite in a com- 
mander of a man-of-war or a military officer, and this 
ability Mr. Mudge possesses. Hotel managing is a pro- 



346 THE SUNNY south; or, 

fession, and a highly honorable one. It requires training, 
talent, nay, genius. The first hotel started in the United 
States, on the modern plan, was the Tremont. Its clerks 
became managers of others, till nov/, in all the best hotels, 
the managers have either been educated to their oJB&ce at 
the Tremont or Astor, (which sprung from the Tremont 
under Mr. Stetson,) or by gentlemen who graduated at 
one or the other of the "Hotel Universities." Those 
large establishments are now regular colleges, and should 
issue " diplomas" to their graduates. It is not now, as 
it was formerly, that a man, who is not fit for any other 
business, can keep a hotel. 

Ail this knowledge I have got from hearing a conver- 
sation between the colonel and one of the proprietors of 
the house. Nothing can be more recherche, more su- 
perb, more in perfection, than every appointment about 
this noble house. It strikes me that Queen Victoria 
could not entertain us better in Windsor Castle, than 
Mr. Mudge does here. 

I love to walk through the French streets, and look 
into the prettily fixed-up shops, or sit in the drawing- 
room window, and gaze out upon the streets, watching 
the passers-by, and the people in the neighborhood. 
Two-thirds of them are French, the gentlemen with mus- 
taches, which seem to be worn universally here, and the 
ladies in Parisian hats, and long lace veils, with dresses 
very short, to exhibit their pretty feet, 

"Like little mice peeping in and out," 

as they trip along the banquette; which, by the way, is 
the ordinary name here for side-walk. The French are 
a very odd people. They don't seem to know or care 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 347 

that anybody looks or listens. They talk and gesticu- 
late in the most extravagantly ridiculous manner, and I 
am infinitely amused a hundred times a-day at "vvhat 
passes before me. 

One old man comes out and sits in an arm-chair on 
the banquette, and docs nothing but make little paper 
cigars and smoke them, and read an old torn book, 
through a pair of enormous, round-eyed, iron spectacles. 
No matter who goes by, what goes on around him, there 
he sits, the crowd passing and repassing him, as quiet 
and unconcerned as if he were alone on Robinson Cru- 
soe's island. At eleven o'clock, a little negress, in a 
bright red 'kerchief bound tastefully about her brows, 
brings him out on a waiter a bottle of claret and a little 
tumbler. He drinks three glasses, and she retires, while 
he resumes his smoking and reading the old book. Once 
I saAV a priest stop and address him. The old man rose, 
bowed politely, crossed himself, oifered the priest a cigar, 
which was accepted; the priest bowed and went on, 
while Monsieur, crossing his breast, bowed and reseated 
himself, with a half smile on his old visage, as if the 
brief interview with the priest had gratified him. 

Not far from this person sits from morning to night, 
in a shop door, a sallow, thin lady, engaged in working 
a piece of embroidery. She has her soup and garlic 
brought to her by a child, and eats her dinner in face of 
the world with perfect indifi'erence. 

The French seem to love "out doors." They turn 
themselves, the whole population, from their doors at the 
close of the afternoon, and sit on the banquette till bed- 
time, talking, laughing, singing, and even eating their 
suppers, if the banquette be wide enough. They are, as 



348 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

all say of the French, a gay, happy people, and seem to 
be quite divested of all care for the morrow. It is our 
American undue care for to-morrow, that makes the to- 
day always so heavy. They make it bear its own weight 
and to-morrow's, a double burden which our Saviour 
wisely forbade us to put upon ourselves. A present is 
the life of the French. 

There are two distinct cities that make up New Or- 
leans — the American and French. The former is so 
much like a Northern city that I did not remain in it 
much, although the most superb portion; but I took 
kindly to the latter for its very novelty. In the French 
part, few of the population speak English. Their lan- 
guage, manners, customs, are preserved; and a Parisian 
would think himself in a city of France, if he did not 
cross Canal street, which is the Rubicon that separates 
the American quarter from it. 

In vralking through the French municipality, or dis- 
trict, I could hardly realize that I was in my native 
land. French names to streets — Rue Bien-ville, Rue 
Royal, Rue Chartres ! French signs above the stores, and 
within mustached Gallic visages of men, and dark-eyed 
foreign-looking women, with smooth, raven hair dressed 
a la Suisse; French architecture everywhere, and the 
French tongue constantly heard by old and young, by 
African and freemen! All these peculiarities made it 
almost impossible for me not to fancy myself in Europe. 
If I entered a shop Bes modes, I was addressed in French 
by a smiling dame, or a polite Monsieur. If I asked a 
direction in tlic street, I was answered in the same 
tongue. If I entered a book store, I found in every 
volume I took up the native language of Laf^iyctte. The 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 849 

yellow fiacre-mcn called to tlicir horses in a patois of 
the same language, and a woman at the corner of the 
street offered me Boston apples, with a "Mam'sel, veut 
elle des pommes ce matin?" 

If I passed two gentleman conversing, I heard French ; 
and the children shouted to each other in the same uni- 
versal speech, much to the amazement undisguised of 
Edith, who attended Bell, Monsieur Isidore, and me, in 
our peramhulations, and who could not comprehend how 
little barefooted wretches of six and seven years could 
talk the language which "Missy Bella" had been three 
years in learning with masters at an expense of hundreds 
of dollars. 

It seemed to her ignorance of things quite an unequal 
distribution of gifts of Providence. On her return she 
will probably excite the wonder of the whole Ethiopian 
population of the plantation, by asseverating that she 
heard in New Orleans little children talking French. I 

do assure you, frankly confessing it, Mr. , that it 

made me quite indignant to hear the little imps so inde- 
pendently speaking the language without ever having 
looked into a horrid grammar, and being wholly innocent 
of dictionaries, who had never conjugated avoir nor f aire, 
and knew no more of etre than they did of the 119th 
Psalm. I felt like giving every one of them a good 
whipping, thinking how many wakeful hours I had spent 
on grammars and dictionaries, to learn what came to 
them, as their walking did, by nature. We found that 
the French spoken to us in the shops was not a little 
different from the Parisian pronunciation. I noticed that 
the Orleanois clip their words, do not speak the nasal 
termination so full and distinct, and have a shriller in- 



350 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR 



tonatlon tlirougliout. I should judge that the difference 
in pronunciation between them and the Parisians to be 
greater tlian between New Englanders and educated 
Englishmen. As these are easily distinguished from one 
another although saying the same words, so are the 
Louisiana French to be easily distinguished from the 
Parisian. 

There are a good many French gentlemen here at 
present who have taken prominent parts in the politics 
of France, and who find French soil unsafe for their feet 
just now. One of these expressed himself to me at table 
yesterday with great animation about this country and 
the society of New Orleans, with which, he said, he was 
perfectly charmed. "There is a naivete and simple 
grace in the ladies," he remarked, "that we see not in 
France, at least not exactly like it. They are gentle, 
yet proud; independent, yet, like the vine, seem to look 
to the sterner sex for support; intelligent, yet indolent; 
not much learned in books, yet irresistibly captivating 
in conversation. They seem to combine," he added, 
"the splendor and haughty bearing of the Spanish 
women, with the tender loveliness of the Italian, the 
bonhomie of the French, and the discretion and repose 
of the English : a noble combination which would con- 
stitute a perfect national character." 

I agree with Monsieur de B so completely that 

I give his description of the Louisianaise as my own. 

Yesterday I had pointed out to me a large, heavy, 
gigantic-looking personage, in a blue frock-coat and gray 
trowsers, as the Prince de Wurtemburg, who is traveling 
in the United States. He is a fair Saxon in aspect, 
•with a fleshy countenance, blue eyes, and double chin — 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 351 

a thorough heavy German. I was at once interested in 

him, not because he was a prince, Mr. , because all 

our young Americans of "Young America" are princes 
born, — but from the fact that he is a lineal descendant 
of that good Duke of Wurtemburg who was Luther's fast 
friend, and whose adhesion to the Protestant cause gave 
such impetus to the Reformation. 

There are scores of the old noblesse of France living 
here in quiet and more or less competency; some as 
gentlemen still, others as fabricateurs of cigars, teachers, 
&c. Here also are to be found exiles of all nations, 
and men of desperate fortunes, self-expatriated. Every 
language of the civilized world can be heard in this city 
in a day's ramble through its thoroughfares. 

Yours respectfully, 

Kate. 



352 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 



LETTER XLV. 



Dear Mr. : 

The more I see and understand this Franco- Ameri- 
can city, the more I am pleased with it. The novelty 
of its being a perfect plain, level as a chess-board, is one 
of its striking characteristics, in a northern eye. Next 
is its foreign air, then there is the magnificent coup d'ceil 
of its league-long quay, the majesty of its moving river, 
the massive grandeur of its public edifices, in which New 
Orleans surpasses northern cities, and the picturesque 
variety of costumes in the streets. Even the water in 
the streets, after a heavy shower, runs awai/ from the 
river towards the rear of the town, instead of running 
into the river, as it ougJit to do in all well-regulated 
corporations. 

The cause of this latter peculiarity is that the river 
is higher than the level bottom on which the city stands, 
and from its shore the land gently inclines for a mile or 
two, until a dead level is reached where the waters lie 
immovable. Like all rivers through an alluvial region, 
the Mississippi flows grandly and loftily along on a ridge 
of its own making, and which it continues to elevate by 
every muddy overflow. 

But I leave these matters to Sir Charles Lyell and 
Professor Forshay, and will write less learnedly, albeit 
learned ladies are now the mode, and all our female 
boarding-schools are transmogrified into Collegiate Insti- 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 35^ 

tutes, and colleges where degrees are bestowed, asserting 
that the young ladies are proficients in (making pies and 
puddings, doing up preserves, churning butter, and press- 
ing cheeses, roasting, baking, and boiHng, making shirts 
and mending cassimeres?) oh no! no, no, no, but in ana- 
lyzing the atmosphere into globules ; in explaining the 
electric battery ; in measuring the depth of the primary 
secondary, and tertiary formations; in dissolving the 
nebula trapezium in the belt of Orion into stars ; in con- 
densing vapor, and explaining the mystery of the steam- 
engine, and perfectly familiar with the science of political 
government, and can demonstrate the forty-seventh Pro- 
blem of Dr. Euclid ! 

I have to-day passed two hours, divided between 
two of the great Roman Catholic churches here, one 
of which, on Place d'Armes, is a cathedral, by which 
term I understand the church wherein the Bishop or 
Archbishop himself preaches. 

We went to the cathedral first, which fronts, with the 
State government offices, a sweet public garden, adorned 
with snow-white statues, and interlaced by lovely walks ; 
an oasis of taste in the very heart of noisy commerce, 
like a gentle thought in a bad man's breast. This square 
is not large, but it is a hon ton of squares, for its neatness 
and attractive air. On one side the massive walls, tower, 
and turrets of the cathedral look protectingly down upon 
it ; on two other sides stand the noble ranges of edifices 
called the Montalban Buildings, constructed alike, and 
facing each other on opposite sides of the Plaza. The 
fourth side is open to the quay and river, at the point 
where the magnificent ocean-steamers lie, to repose 9. 
while from their stormy voyages from clime to clime. 



23 



354 THE SUNNY south; ok, 

The walks in the square were lively with nurses and 
children, while lazy fellows with mustaches lay asleep on 
the luxurious grass, or smoked cigars. This square has 
been for more than a century the parade-ground of the 
troops of the several nations which have held New Or- 
leans : Spanish, French, English, and now Americans. 
It was formerly the place of public execution, and from 
it is fired at nine o'clock the cannon which we have heard 
every night at that hour shake the city, and start Isabel 
and me, and other unsophisticated country girls, from our 
propriety. 

The cathedral has an imposing and costly air. It is 
the old cathedral, that ancient, time-honored structure, of 
which 1 have read in novels, and the very sight of which 
creates a romance in the imagination. But modern 
taste has veneered all this antiquity, and out of the old 
pile has produced a very elegant temple of worship. 
We made our way along the front of the government 
offices, between massive columns supporting a corridor, 
and a row of cabriolets, which are the "hacks" of New 
Orleans. The cabriolet is a handsome, chariot-shaped 
vehicle, that is too pretty to be confined, as it is, en- 
tirely to the hack-stand. These cahs^ as they are called 
"for short," are driven by Irishmen, or by colored men, 
the latter of whom sat half asleep on the boxes, while 
the sons of Erin were alert, and extended to us very 
pressing and polite invitations to sufier them to have the 
" honor of dhrivin' our ladyship and our honors to any 
part of the city." The front doors of the cathedral 
were closed, but M. de Clery, our attendant, turned with 
US down a narrow avenue, which had the wall of the 
cathedral on our left, and a row of French-lqoking build- 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 855 

ings on our right, wliich, said Isidore, are occupied by 
the priests ; and of this fact we had ocular proof, by 
seeing two sleek and unctuous-looking gentlemen, with 
pleasant visages, sitting on a balcony, one with a paper 
cigar in his lips, and the other reading to him from a 
small, greasy book ; there was also a very young, slen- 
der-looking priest in a long, black serge-gown, reaching 
to his heels, who was at the door of another house, pur- 
chasing, with a smile and a jest, some superb Huston 
peaches from a basket balanced on the head of a Creole 
woman. 

We proceeded about fifty yards down this avenue when 
we came to a side door, which an elegantly shaped, veiled 
female wiis in the act of opening to go in. Isidore po- 
litely held the door for her and us, and we passed through 
a second cloth door into the interior. At our left was a 
marble basin, containing consecrated water, into which the 
veiled lady dipped the tip of her forefinger, and, turning 
round to the shrine of the Virgin, crossed herself on the 
forehead and bosom gracefully, at the same time bending 
her head in the act of adoration. The cross is made by 
touching the forehead, the breast, the left shoulder, and 
lastly the right, in quick succession with the right fore- 
finger. 

The door by which we entered, brought us into the 
Cathedral, close to the shrine of St. Joseph, near the 
chancel. The extreme beauty of the interior ; the soft, 
mellow, lemon-toned tint of the ceiling and columns, the 
vast height of the fresco-adorned dome ; the variety of 
fine architectural forms into which the walls around us 
and the ceiling were shaped ; the liberal air of space and 
expenditure apparent everywhere ; the superb altar, with 



356 THE SUNNY SOJLTTIi; OR, 

its commingled paraphernalia of splendid things, of which 
I neither knew the name nor their use, fixed my admira- 
tion, and riveted me to the spot from which I first caught 
a view of the rich ensemble. 

After a few minutes, when I had comprehended the 
grand outline, I began to examine details. I walked 
around the immense church, from shrine to shrine, and 
from picture to picture. The last are always daubs, in 
all Roman churches, except the altar paintings, which 
are always rich, and usually by a master's pencil. 

I allude, under the term "pictures," not to the great 
oil-paintings which rise above the central shrine, but to 
those colored engravings, in black or rosewood frames, 
that are seen in all these churches. They represent, in 
a series, the events in the sufferings of Christ, from his 
arrest to his ascension. These pictures are, I think, sixteen 
in number, and are so hung around the church, that a vo- 
tary, commencing with Jesus in the hands of His captors, 
ends on the other side of the church with bowing before the 
representation of His crucifixion. All good E-omans 
often make the "penitential journey" round the church, 
saying a prayer (composed for the purpose, in their Li- 
turgy) before each picture, having reference to the scene 
represented by it. These pictures are always engravings, 
highly-colored, and sold by the set to supply churches, 
not only in this country but in Europe. Each one is 
sacredly surmounted by a little black cross. 

As we entered, a negress, with a little mulatto child in 
her hands, was engaged devoutly making the tour of the 
" Passion of Jesus. ' ' I watched her, and saw her kneel be- 
fore each engraving, and mutter her prayer, the little, 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 357 

black-eyed child pulled down on its knees by her side, but 
its shining eyes always turned around and fixed on us. 

There were several confessional boxes. Seeing the skirt 
of a robe protruding from the alcove by the side of one, 
I moved in that direction, and beheld the graceful lady, 
whom I had a few minutes lost sight of, kneeling before 
the lattice blind, with her mouth close to it, and pouring 
into the ear of the unseen priest, shut up within, her se- 
crets and her sins ! 

That she was penitent, I felt sure, for there were 
*' tears in her voice," as its slow sounds reached my he- 
retical ears. Sorrow always commands reverence. I 
turned away, leaving her to her humiliating work, and 
wishing to say to her in the language of inspiration, 
*' Daughter ! None forgiveth sins, but God only I" Ah, 
this confessional ! It is the secret of Roman power over 
the consciences of her people. " Tell me your secrets, 
and you are my slave," was said two thousand years ago, 
by a Greek writer: and it is true to-day, and Rome 
practically asserts its -truth. 

I observed tha., over the door of each of the confes- 
sionals was printed in gold letters, the name of the father- 
confessor ; so that the penitent knows (possibly if no mis- 
chievous and evil-minded young priest steal in, or jealous 
husband unawares to priest and penitent) to whom she 
is unfolding the secret intents and thoughts of her heart. 
I should hardly be willing to tell my husband everything, 
(if I had one, Mr. ,) less so to one of these jovial- 
eyed, good-natured, bald-headed padres ! and much less 
to a handsome young fellow of a priest, whom I saw cross 
the chancel, in at one door and out of the other, half 
bending his knee before the crucifix on the altar, as he 



358 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

passed by it, not without half an eye cast upon our 
party ' The confessional alone would frighten me from 
ever being a Romanist. 

If you have ever been in a Roman church, you must 
have been struck with the three great altars or shrines 
which are invariably in all of them, at the east end of 
the church. The centre one is the High Altar, mth the 
crucifix, holy, vessels, &c., and is the shrine of Jesus ! 
On the right of this, at the same end, is the shrine of the 
Virgin with her altar, and the objects associated with her 
worship. On the left of the High Altar, at the same 
end, is the shrine and altar of St. Joseph, the husband 
of Mary. 

These three altars take up the whole of the east end 
of all Roman churches. The three are equally wor- 
shiped, or rather the shrines; and the Virgin always 
has the greatest number of votaries. Her altar is heaped 
with the freshest flowers ; and three kneel before her 
shrine, where one kneels before the high altar of " the 
Christ." 

The religion of Rome is Mariolatry. The Mother of 
Jesus is the supreme object of the worship, homage, 
adoration, and supplication of Romanists. Jesus is wor- 
shiped and adored not as ''the ascended Lord," but as 
the infant in arms : » this is a peculiarity of the Roman 
worship. They are so accustomed to think of, and to be- 
hold Jesus in the arms of His Mother, that they lose sight 
of Him as "the Man Christ Jesus;" and the habit of 
seeing Him only as an Infant leads them to look upon 
the Blessed Mother alone in the light of protectress and 
guardian of the Holy Child. Thus they associate with 
her a maternal influence and maternal power in relation 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 359 

to Him, which is the foundation of their whole system 
of ''Prayers to the Virgin." 

Christ in the arms is the centre of Roman worship : 
Christ on the cross, of Protestant. It is natural there- 
fore that the worshiper of the babe should transfer a 
part of adoration to its mother. 

After half an hour spent in the Cathedral, we de- 
parted as we came, and taking one of the cabriolets, 
droYe to St. Patrick's Church; of my visit to which I 
will not trouble you with an account, as it interested me 
less than that to the Cathedral. On our way we paused 
at Christ Church, the richest Episcopal Church in this 
city. It is a low, ill-planned structure for its archi- 
tectural pretensions, looking, as if the main body had 
sunk some six feet under ground, after being built, and 
the spire had sunk as many feet down into the bosom of 
the tower. The whole wants elevation, and up-lifting 
into the air. 

The interior I am told is very rich; but gates and 
doors were locked, — for, I regret to say, the Romans 
are the only people who "shut not their gates" to the 
foot of the wayfaring worshiper, who, at all times, 
should be able to enter the " courts of the House of the 
Lord, and worship towards His holy temple." 

Very respectfully, 

K. C. 



360 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 



LETTER XLVI. 

Chateau db Clery, La. 



Dear Mr. 



This letter's date shows you that I am once more 
an inmate of the charming abode from which I have so 
frequently written you. My last was dated at New 
Orleans, where we had been to purchase the hundred 
little elegancies for Isabel's bridal, which having done to 
all our satisfactions, we returned home on Tuesday last. 
I see by on^ of your papers that I have been so dis- 
tinguished as to find a critic. 

Dear me ! I had no idea, not the remotest, that any 
thing coming from my pen could be worthy of the notice 
of any other pen, especially such a graceful one as that 
of your New Orleans correspondent. If I use "Needles," 
her pens are pointed with gold, and sharpened with 
diamond dust. Present to her my most gracious com- 
pliments, and say to her that she is right in supposing I 
had made a mistake in giving to one railroad terminus 
some descriptive sentences which really belonged to the 
other ! I thank her for the correction and especially for 
making it so pleasantly. But who could be expected to 

have their heads perfectly clear, Mr. , (I ask you^ 

who are a married man, and ought to know about such 
matters,) when they were shopping with a bride-elect, 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 361 

attended by a handsome young man, and half in love with 
him myself? 

I do not mean Isabel's affianc(3 Isidore, but a friend 
of his, who escorted us; for Isidore is too diffident to go 
a-shopping with Bel, on such an occasion. Now, having 

told you the secret, Mr. , you are not surprised. I 

feel confident that my head was a little giddy, and that 
I mistook my notes about one railway at one end of the 
city, jotted down when I came from a day's trip to Pass 
Christian for those made for the other railway at the 
other end; and I trust that this explanation will make 
me friends with your correspondent. And talking of 
such contributors to your columns, pray who is "Nico- 
lene?" She writes with taste to be sure, and does me 
great honor, in her graceful humility, to furnish such 
exquisitely woven threads for my "Needles." But I do 
her injustice to call them thread — they are the finest 
silken floss of the richest and most brilliant tints. How 
intimately one can know an unknown one by means of 
the magic press! This "Nicolene" and I are already 
friends, stitched as closely together as twin-sisters, by 
means of our "Thread and Needle." Shall we ever 
meet in this green world under the sunny blue sky, hand 
in hand, and friendly eye looking into friendly eye? or 
if not, and we cross one another's bright path in celestial 
fields, shall we know who one another is; and shall we 
then be to the other as the "thread" to the "needle:" 
two but one in aim, and in all things ? 

Perhaps, too, I have many friends — many kindred 
spirits, who have become acquainted with me through 
my "Needles." I sometimes love to fancy myself visit- 
ing, incognita, some of the fireside^ where they are read, 



362 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

and where I am loved through them;* and to imagine 
the dear welcome I should receive from smiling ejes and 
pressing hands, w^hen I told them who I was. Thus, my 
dear sir, my pen has become to me the key to open many 
hearts, who think and speak of me, as if they had seen 
and talked with me face to face. They will continue to 
be my friends, forever, and I to be theirs ; so that I have 
two sets of friends in the world ; those whom I have seen, 
and whose voices are familiar to my ear; and those 
whose forms, whose faces, whose voices, whose names, 
whose homes on earth, are all unknown to me ! To them 
I send love and greeting. To them I send wishes of 
happiness and heaven ; for them my prayers ascend ; to- 
wards them my pleasantest thoughts wander, when in 
the still twilight I give them free wing over the shadowy, 
half-star-lit world. 

In this letter, dear Mr. , I meant to have given 

you a description of the great preparations which are 
making for Isabel's bridal, which takes place on Thurs- 
day morning next ; but I have not time now, everybody 
is hurrying everybody so ; for one comes and urges me 
to lay down my pen, and entwine a wreath of flowers for 
some statuette; or another runs and asks me my opinion 
of such an ornament for the chandeliers ; Isabel sends 
the pretty golden skinned slave, Emma, to ask me if she 
ought to wear any rings at all during the ceremony, and 
whichj one or ones? and then my taste is in demand for 
the best mode of dressing the chancel of the little gothic 
chapel, where the ceremony is to take place; and what 
with trying to keep Isidore within proper decorum, con- 

* A great number of letters and poems were addressed to the 
authoress. — Editor. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 363 

sidcring he is soon to become a grave husband, and show- 
ing Aunt Chloe how to frost cake "Bosting-way," as 
she calls it, I have enough to do ; so good bye for this 

day, good Mr. . In a day or two you shall have 

full particulars of the wedding. 

Your true friend, 

Kate. 



364 THE SUNNY south; ok, 



LETTER XLVII. 

Chateau de Clery, La. 



Dear Mr. : 

The wedding of Isabel had like to have been put off 
for at least a whole month, just for a point of etiquette ! 
And what do you suppose it was? 

Why, you know, that my sweet pupil, Isabel, who for 
two years past has grown into the charming grace of in- 
tellectual womanhood under my eye, had captivated the 
calm, elegant, retiring Isidore de Clery, while on a visit 
at his father's with her own father, Colonel Peyton. 
When it was perceived that lovers they were, and mar- 
ried they would be, why the dear, good colonel gave his 
consent, and proposed that the party should go to the 
city to purchase the wedding dresses, jewelry, and ever 
so many and so forths ! 

Of course Bel did not object ; M. de Clery, senior, did 
not object, but was perfectly enraptured at the prospect 
of having such a lovely daughter-in-law ; and Isidore did 
not object by any means. So the wedding, it was de- 
cided, should take place at the Chateau de Clery. 

But now, only think of the tyrannies of fashionable 

propriety, Mr. ! After we had returned from New 

Orleans to the Chateau, a certain very precise, very 
starch, very ancient old lady aunt, who was invited from 
her sugar estate to the wedding, took it into her antiquated 



THE SOUTIIErvXER AT HOME. 3G5 

I 

head "tliat it was most becoming for young maidens 
to be married (whercsomever they may be courted) at 
their paternal mansion ; and that it would not be comme 
il faut if Isabel were married at the house of the father 
of her intended husband ! that the bridegroom should go 
to the house of the bride elect after his bride, and take 
her home! — at least that was the custom in her day!" 

which was entre nous, Mr. , when three brothers, 

named Shem, Ham, and Japhet, got their wives, I am 
quite satisfied. 

Now to the plain Tennessee manners of the colonel, 
to the unsophisticated ignorance of poor Isabel, to the 
want of savoir faire, pardonable in a White Mountain 
Yankee girl, this idea never occurred to us before. The 
old aunt's brocade and farthingale notions prevailed over 
the better sense of the colonel, and he absolutely told 
Bel that she had best be married at home, in Tennessee, 
and that we would return on purpose for the next boat I 

Bel came to me with her large, glorious, brown eyes, 
overrunning with tears, and told me all. I was sur- 
prised and indignant. I wished all meddlesome antedi- 
luvian aunts a league beyond sundown, and telling Bel I 
would see what I could do for her, and not to spoil her 
pretty eyes with crying, I left my room and went to the 
colonel On the way, in the salon, I encountered Isi- 
dore. His ffice was pale, and his whole aspect perfectly 
wretched with an expression of despair. He met me 
with extended hands. 

" Sweet, good Kate, you must reverse our fate ! You 
can do any thing you attempt. Influence the colonel to 
change his mind. It is absurd ! Why can we not be 
married at my father's as well as at Bel's? I wish her 



866 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

aunt had been blown up " (no — not so bad as that," 

I said, putting my finger on his lips) " well, sunk to the 
bottom of the Mississippi ere she had come here to mar 
our felicity. For Bel's sake, as well as mine, do some- 
thing in our behalf!" 

I promised Isidore I would see what could be done, 
and, followed by his blessings, I sought Colonel Peyton, 
whom I found walking up and down the piazza on the 
shady side of the house, looking as gloomy as if he had 
the toothache. 

" Well, Kate, I see you have heard the news," he said, 
approaching me. " Bel will cry her eyes out, and Isi- 
dore will blow out his brains ! But, bless me, what could 
I do ? There is my precise sister, with her old, Revolu- 
tionary-War notions, says it will be ' an absolute scan- 
dal' if I suffer Bel to be married here, and that such a 

thing was never heard of, and that — that — the — d ! 

would generally be to pay ." 

("Fie, colonel!" I said, trying to stop the word at 
the syllable, but it was no use — out it came with a hearti- 
ness that was resistless.) 

" Well, Kate, it is enough to make old General Taylor 
swear !" 

"What does Monsieur de Clery say?" I asked. 

" He, you know, is so excessively polite that he can't 
gainsay a woman, so he bows, and bows, and smiles, and 
outwardly acquiesces to my sister, while I very well know 
he would be most happy to administer chloroform to her 
for the next nine days to come. But, if scandal is to 
come of it, Bel must be married at home, as I have told 
her. Confound fashion, Kate." 

Here the colonel gave such a petulant fling to his 



THE SOUTIIERNEE AT HOME. 367 

cigar, that it went like a rocket through the air, and 
h'ghted upon the thick woolly pate of old Aunt Elise, 
igniting the unctuous crisp to the sudden consternation 
of the old dame, who screeched so loudly, with her apron 
over her head, and ran so madly, yelling "Fire !" that 
the colonel burst into laughter, and his anger evaporated, 
for he is too good-natured to hold ill-humor. 

" Well, Kate, I will be guided by your good sense, 
and if it offends my sister we must bear the brunt. 
What do you propose in order to keep these lovers from 
djnng with despair ? for, I confess, that to put off a mar- 
riage a whole month, which was to take place to-morrow 
night, is a pretty trying affair; don't you think so?" 

"I do not know any thing about such matters," I an- 
swered, very quickly ; " but if the good lady is not to 
be pacified, I propose that you suggest to M. de Clery 
that he invest you with the proprietorship of Chateau 
de Clery for a day or so. Do you understand me, 
colonel?" 

" Upon my word I do not, Kate," he answered, thought- 
fully. 

"I understand her, colonel," responded the cheery 
voice of M. de Clery, who overheard me, and now joined 
us. "It is a good idea. Bon, honP' 

" A good idea will be the most acceptable to me just 
now," answered the colonel, with a blank look. ^'What 
would Miss Kate be at?" 

" I do not wish to offend so respectable a person as 
Madame, your sister," said M. de Clery, with a smile, 
" and as her prejudices touching where a Demoiselle should 
be married are not to be easily overcome, I herewith in- 
vest you, my dear colonel, for three days, with the sole 



368 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

proprietorship of this chateau, servants, and all it con- 
tains, and for that period, Isidore and I will have the 
honor of being your happy guests !" 

At this the colonel burst into a hearty laugh, and, 
shaking M. de Clery by both hands, turned to me and 
kissed me, looking the uproarious picture of satisfaction 
and delight, and began calling for "Bel," at the top of 
his voice ! 

The matter was soon arranged. Bel smiled again, 
like an April sun coming out from behind showery clouds ; 
Isidore said I deserved to be married to an emperor, 
and the colonel would have kissed me again, if I hadn't 
adroitly glided from the reach of his hospitable arm. 
The prim aunt was but half and half content. She some- 
how felt as if somebody had been whipped around the 
stump for her especial benefit ; " she couldn't exactly 
see ho\Y it was, but she lioped it was proper." 

It would have amused you, Mr. , to have seen 

how amazed the servants were when they saw the cha- 
teau so suddenly change hands. M. de Clery resigning 
his place at the table to the colonel, and all giving of 
orders. It was a merry time we had, and all was car- 
ried forward with commendable gravity, greatly to the 
edification of the antiquated lady, who presided at the 
tea-table, with inexpressible majesty. 

To-night the wedding takes place. All are in a flutter 
and excitement. You would think every soul on the place, 
black and white, was going to be married, instead of the 
blushing, trembling, trying-to-be-composed-Isabel. Such 
showing of ivories, on red and black ground, from hall 
to kitchen, such Ethiopian merriment, such good humor 
and activity generally, never was before. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 369 

One servant runs to the garden to gather bouquets for 
the pier-tables and mantles ; another gathers ripe fruits ; 
another wreathes flowers; another goes by laden with 
frosted cakes ; another flies this way ; and another that ; 
till all know not whether they are on their head or their 
heels. For my part, I never was more excited, and don't 
believe that if I were going to be married myself, I 
should be half so fluttered, and my heart so tumultuous. 

Yet with all my joy for Bel, there is mingled inex- 
pressible sadness ! To night she ceases to be my beloved 
pupil — to night she is no longer her father's, but an- 
other s! The fond, paternal arms which have encircled 
her for so many years in prideful afi*ection, are to be re- 
placed by those of a stranger. Every relation which she 
has held to those she has loved, will, to-night, change ! 
She passes from us to revolve in another orbit, around 
another sun than that which has warmed and lighted the 
world of her young heart. 

Ah, what a risk a young girl runs to marry ! What a 
lottery is wedlock! How untried, until he is tried, the 
man for whom she so courageously and confidingly leaves 
father, mother, brothers, sisters, home, and all things 
familiar and fondly loved ! Will he be to her all these ? 
Will he weigh down in life's unequal scales even weight 
with these ? But I will not moralize ! Blessings be on 
the pure head of dear Isabel ! She is noble and worthy to 
be happy ; and may all that heaven loves to shower on its 
favored ones fall upon her through life. Be fragrant 
flowers about her path, and singing birds around her 
steps, and pleasant skies above her. My blessings go 
with thee, my prayers surround thee, dearest girl ! 

And thou, lordly Isidore ! strong and manly in thy 
24 



370 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

princely beauty, take this gentle dove into thy bosom, 
and shelter it with thy tenderest care ! The tendrils of 
the fragile vine, that thou hast unclasped from the pater- 
nal oak, teach kindly to enfold about thy own heart, 
each sustaining and binding one to the other in an im 
perishable union! 

Good bye, Mr. , 

Kate. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 371 



LETTER XLVII. 



Dear Mr. 



Isabel is married ! My dear pupil is to-day hailed 
with the matronly and dignified title of Madame Isidore 
de Clery. The wedding took place yesterday evening, 
at 4 o'clock, in the little brick chapel, which nestles in a 
grove of sycamores, a mile from the chateau. 

As I know you men have a great deal of curiosity 
about everything, though you try and hide it, as well as 
you can, behind the shadow of your beards, I will give 
you some account of the ceremony, and how it came off. 

The day was as fine as if it were the first day that 
morning had ever broken upon, the skies were of so 
"heavenly a blue," as Mrs. Hemans describes the pecu- 
liar azure of the cerulean and transparent autumnal at- 
mosphere. There was but one cloud visible, which floated 
over the east, like a bridal scarf, graceful and undula- 
ting, as if borne onward by a company of invisible fairies, 
by and by to descend and cast it over "the bride of the 
day." The birds, all of them, blue and gray, orange- 
colored and scarlet, brown and black, were all on tho 
wing, and singing quite beside themselves, as if they 
well knew there was a grand holiday. 

The little army of sable urchins, that always appertain 
to a planter's domestic establishment, were arrayed in 
their "Sunday best," and with great fragments of corn 



372 THE SUNNY south; or, 

bread, sweetened with molasses, in their hands, were 
tumbling, rolling, somerseting, galloping over the green, 
and as generally beside themselves with joy, as the birds 
were. Then all the dogs — Tray, Blanche, Sweetheart, 
and old Bonus — seemed to have inhaled exhilarating gas. 
Such wagging of tails short, tails long, tails shaggy, and 
tails genteel! such extravagant demonstrations of joy 
were never before known among the canine family of the 
chateau. Every particular dog seemed to delight him- 
&elf in chasing his own tail around and around a circle, 
jnd the whole yard seemed to be converted into a sort 
c F animated orrery, the orbits in which they revolved 
h iving old Bonus for their central sun, and Bonus, like 
Ihe sun, made slow and majestic revolutions on his axis, 
and, unlike the sun, would once in a while elevate his 
toothless jaws, and, opening his huge mouth, send forth 
towards the heavens a doleful and horrible howl. Poor 
Bonus ! it was his best. He would have yelped and 
laughed, like the younger dogs, if he could ; but all that 
he could do towards approaching a proper expression of 
the common joy were the hoarse, guttural notes, which 
from time to time reached the ears of Isabel, and made 
her turn pale with apprehension. "It is an evil omen, 
dear Kate," she said, trying to laugh. 

" It is old Bonus' best mode age has left him to hail 
your bridal day," I answered. "You should take it as 
a compliment from the old dog, Bel. Hear him! It 
does sound wofuUy doleful, but let it not annoy you. I 
will have him muzzled. But pardon his unusual excite- 
ment, considering the occasion." 

But Bel was troubled, and I had to order Pierre to 
put a muzzle on the howling patriarch; and no sooner 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 873 

had he obejccl, than all the little dogs ceased their revo- 
lutions after their tails, and came and stood around him, 
gazing upon him with looks of curiosity and canine sym- 
pathy, and evidently were doing their best respectfully 
to console the old patriarch. 

Noon at length passed, and I went in the carriage to 
the chapel, to see if it were all dressed for the bridal. 

On the way I met Dr. S , the clergyman, in his 

black coat and white stock, jogging along on a big, 
handsome mule, which was his favorite riding horse. 

^'Good day, Miss Conynghame," he said, bowing with 
courteous kindness. ^'You will find the chapel all ar- 
ranged with taste, by my daughters, and several other 
maidens. How is Miss Peyton?" 

•'Well, sir," I answered. "Isidore was wishing to 
see you, to ask some questions about what he should say 
and do in the ceremony." 

"Yes, yes," he said, smilingly. "Young people feel 
a little nervous at such times. I must drill him to the 
tactics for the day. Good-bye." 

So he thrust his left heel thrice into the left flank of 
his mule "Columbus," and went pacing off uj) the Levee 
road, at an enormous gait. 

I soon came in sight of the chapel. It was prettily 
and rurally situated, in a fine grove, a hundred and fifty 
rods from the road. It faced the river, and, with its 
little cemetery about it, glittering with white marble 
monuments, formed a picturesque feature in the scenery. 
But all was beautiful everywhere the eye fell, the whole 
mile from the chateau to the chapel, and for leagues be- 
low it. The river road Avas bordered with gardens, 
and villas, and lawns, and groves, on one side, and on 



374 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

the other was the green elevation of the Levee, with the 
ever-rolling tide of the dark brown flood of the Missis- 
sippi, the other side of it; while upon its broad bosom 
were pleasure boats, and row-boats, crossing this way 
and that — fishermen suspended motionless above the 
deep, in their light red canoes, and in the distance, the 
majestic forms of ascending and descending steamers 
marked their paths above the trees by long trains of 
dark, chocolate-colored smoke. All was beautiful and 
grand, with the splendid sun shining obliquely down on 
all, tesselating land and w^ater with a mammoth mosaic 
of light and shadow, copying on the ground, "in shade," 
the forms of all things it shone upon. 

The little chapel is an ancient and very small edifice, 
brown and ivy-grown, with signs of age in its steep, 
moss-covered roof, and weather-brown doors. It has 
two narrow painted windows, on each side, a triple- 
lancet window above the chancel, and a lower one oddly 
shaped, surmounted by a red spire, crowned by a cross, 
which had once been gilt, but was now bronzed by ex- 
posure. Tavo immense sycamores stood before the low 
Gothic door of the tower, and rising far in the air, spread 
their broad, w^hite arms protectingly above it; while in 
tlieir rear grew elms, and a majestic live-oak, that over- 
shadowed the altar-window, and a lowly grave beneath. 
Shade, repose, and holy seclusion marked the spot. 
One might forget there, it would seem, that around, 
though out of sight, rolled the great wicked world, and 
that sin was but a dream of the past, but for the graves 
about, and the recollection of the fearful words, "Death 
came by sin." 

Yes, even there, in that sweet, secluded, shut-out spot 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 375 

of peace, the graves — wliich added to its solemn beauty, 
and gave it an air of repose — spoke of sin! No — no- 
where on earth can we escape the presence of it, or of 
its memorials : it is only in that bright world, beyond 
the glittering constellations that pave the floor of the 
"mansions of God," that peace and sinlessness are 
known. " There shall be no more sin." 
' All things on earth speak of death. Its sable seal is 
impressed upon everything below. The flower buds, 
blooms, diffuses its fragrance, and withers away. This 
is death. The lordly oak decays with age, and falls to 
mingle with the dust from which it sprung: and tMs is 
death ! The day fades into twilight, and loses itself in 
the shades of night : and this is death ! The green spring, 
which blooms through all the summer, in autumn turns 
gray and sear, and casts its dry leaves upon the earth : 
and this is death ! The new moon fulls, and wanes, and 
ceases to shine : and this is death ! The stars leave their 
spheres, glitter for a brilliant moment, and disappear in 
darkness : and this is death ! 

The seal of death is truly impressed upon all things 
beneath the shining sun. " Nothing remains in one stay." 
Even the nuptial vow before the altar was echoed from 
the white marble monuments of the dead, that glared 
into the windows upon the bridal. 

But, my dear sir, this is a sad conclusion for a letter 
upon a "wedding." But it is the reflection of the sha- 
dow upon my heart. Isabel's marriage has made me 
weep more than smile, for she is lost to me, and ere many 
days elapse, we separate — perhaps forever. 

In my next, Mr. , I will describe the wedding, for 

really I have no heart to do it to-day. 



376 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 



LETTER XLIX. 

New Orleans, La. 



Dear Mr. 



In this letter I will redeem my promise, to write a 
description of the wedding at Chateau de Clery. We are 
now — the whole wedding-party — in this city, waiting for 
the Crescent City, in which we are to embark by way of 
Havana for New York. 

The hour for the nuptials was 4 o'clock on Thursday 
last. At half past three, the cortege^ in four open car- 
riages, started from the villa for the chapel, a mile down 
the river-road. There were outriders, young gentlemen 
of the vicinity, on prancing steeds, and at least two hun- 
dred well-dressed slaves following on foot, and in the 
greatest glee. The scene, the Levee-road exhibited, was 
novel and interesting, with its varied population and gay 
apparel, — for the negro women invariably wore scarlet, 
or orange-colored, or sky-blue headkerchiefs, and the 
men sported red or yellow waistcoats. 

Isabel and her father, Isidore and myself, rode in the 
first barouche. The bride looked charmingly, arrayed 
in the richest white, embroidered crape, with a coronet 
of pearls upon her brow, and bracelets, and necklace of 
pearls. Over her head was thrown a veil of the purest 
Mechlin lace, as superbly elegant as if woven of silver 
gossamer and lilies interwined. She looked so happy, and 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 377 

yet trembled so, that I thought one might compare mar- 
rying to being drowned in Cologne-water, or hanged with 
a perfumed cambric handkerchief! Isidore also looked 
deadly pale, and then fearfully rubicund, and said, in that 
short ride of a mile, more silly things than, I dare say, 
he will say again, if he lives to be as old as Methusaleh. 
Isabel kept silent, and feared to meet his eyes, which I 
observed he never took off of her. 

How simple going to be married makes a person look ! 
I am glad that I have yet escaped this nonsense, Mr. 

. By the way, the handsome young man whom I 

saw in New Orleans on our former visit, intends taking 
passage in the Crescent City to New York. He is cer- 
tainly a very modest and unassuming person, to be so 
handsome and wealthy as he is ; — and so intelligent and 

highly educated. If I ever marry, Mr. , (dear me ! 

what am I writing about ? Oh ! Isabel's wedding ! Peo- 
ple can't always keep from having wandering thoughts, 
though one prays never so hard against them). 

As I was saying, Isabel looked very lovely and was 
very silent. Old Bonus suddenly was heard howling 
behind, trying, with all the other dogs of the family, to 
keep up with the carriages. This doleful sound made 
her look uneasy, and she glanced at me. At this mo- 
ment, the coachman, in giving his long, new whip a flourish 
at some tame doves in the road, accidentally curled the 
green silken lash about the neck of one of them, and, 
with the backward movement of his hand, it came into 
the carriage and directly into Isabel's lap ! It was as 
white as the driven snow, with a pink bill, and olive- 
brown eyes. It was dreadfully frightened, but Isabel, 
who looked upon it as a good omen against the bowlings 



378 THE SUNNY south; or, 

of old Bonus, smiled, and drew it to her bosom soothingly, 
stroking its cream-pure plumage with her white-gloved 
hand. We all pronounced it a "good omen," and Isi- 
dore said, " he would have a cage of gold made for it, 
put rings on its fingers and bells on its toes, and it should 
have music wherever it goes," 

We all laughed at this absurd speech of Isidore, know- 
ing that he was too happy in his foolishness to know 
what he said, and he had wits enough left to laugh, also 
when he reflected a moment. 

"Never mind," said the colonel, "it is his wedding 
day ; and the most sensible men then sometimes play the 
fool." 

Isidore smilingly bowed to the compliment, and we 
drove up to the church, the dove being transferred to the 
possession of the footman, who had instructions, both 
from Isidore and Bel, to keep it with the tenderest 
care, and take it to the chateau after the wedding was 
over. 

We found the front of the church thronged with the 
guests, and in the background, the groups of curious and 
happy servants, that mingle in all Southern scenes. But 
hoAV shall I describe to you the unlooked for reception 
of the bride before the church ! 

The carriage stopped at the outer gate, fifty yards 
from the entrance of the chapel. The gravel path was 
lined with twenty-four young girls, dressed in pure white, 
each having a wreath of white blossoms in her hair. 
Each maiden carried a basket, filled with the leaves of 
roses — heaped up. At the gate stood two tall, lovely 
girls, holding aloft an arch wreathed with flowers in the 
most magnificent manner. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 379 

Beneath this arch the bride and bridegroom passed, 
and as they moved onward, the twenty-four maidens pre- 
ceded them and strewed the way with rose-leaves, so that 
Isabel's foot touched not the earth, only flowers from the 
gate to the chapel. Before the door stood two other 
maidens, holding a chain of flowers, and, as the bride 
and groom passed between them, they encircled them inv 
one flowery bond. Within the vestibule stood a beautiful 
girl, who held two crowns in her hands, one of laurel- 
leaves, the other of orange blossoms ; and with them, she 
preceded the bride and her twenty-four bridesmaids for 
all these lovely girls were Isabel's voluntary brides- 
maids. 

Arrived at the chancel, they knelt before the altar, in 
front of which stood the venerable Dr. , in his sur- 
plice, the prayer-book open at the place "Matrimony." 
The bridesmaids knelt, twelve on each side, in brilliant 
crescents; and above their heads the two tall graceful 
maidens held the arch of flowers. 

The ceremony, that of the Episcopal Church, was 
deeply impressive ; and as the colonel, who was a Presby- 
terian, said, 

"It ties a couple together so fast and firm, that a 
blacksmith's hammer and anvil couldn't unrivet them." 

After the ceremony, the venerable clergyman (and for 
venerable, very old clergymen it is well enough perhaps) 
kissed the bride; and, before Isidore could do so, I had 
her sweet cheek ; and then her father, and then the four- 
and-twenty bridesmaids, "all in a row." When Isidore 
at length got his turn, I thought he would never have 
taken away his naughty lips from her pretty, ripe mouth. 
Dear me ! what a difierence just marrying makes ! 



880 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

I forgot to say that the maiden who held the wreath, 
crowned the pair as they rose from their knees. The 
"happy couple" had no sooner left the church, than the 
maidens commenced a lively chaunt ; the slaves crowded 
round, and showered blessings on "handsome massa and 
missis;" the birds in the old sycamores sang more 
noisily and sweetly, and twenty times more lively than 
ever before; the little dogs scampered and yelled with 
joy, running under every lady's feet; old Bonus howled 
most appallingly in his efforts to bark his compliments ; 
and the very horses of the carriage into which Isidore 
and Isabel stepped, tossed their small heads more proudly, 
pricked their delicate triangular ears with vanity, and 
arched their necks with inj&nite pretension. 

They were but a few minutes, the beautiful stag-hoofed 
bays, in conveying us back to the chateau, at which the 
whole wedding-party alighted, just as the sun went down 
in a pearl-shell sky. A superb wedding-dinner, at 7 
o'clock, came off, in a magnificently lighted hall, with 
sixty guests, planters, their wives and daughters, from 
the neighboring estates, two-thirds of whom were French, 
which language was almost wholly spoken at the table. 
In the evening there was a grand ball, in a true Creole 
style, w^ith a great deal of dancing and imbibing of 
champagne. A fusilade of corks was kept up with great 
spirit till midnight; arrows were shot from black eyes 
into exposed hearts ; and there was a great taking captive 
of unsophisticated youth. Every orange-bower echoed 
softly with the whispers of some stolen away pair ; the 
recesses of the piazza betrayed gentle forms half en- 
circled by a manly arm ; and — but I Avon't tell tales, Mr. 
, for I should tell one on myself — for the elegant 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 381 

young French gentleman, from New Orelans, was at the 
wedding, and somehow or other I saw a good deal of 
him in the course of the evening, and we had a charming 
walk together on the banks of the dark, star-lit river! 

Well, the third day after the wedding, we all started 
for New Orleans, where we are now. We embark to- 
morrow for New York in the Crescent City. After a- 
brief stay there, M.* Isidore de Clery and his fair bride 
proceed to Europe by the steamer. They have invited 
me to accompany them, but my mission is done. Isabel 
is no longer a pupil — at least not mine ; how much soever 
she may be her husband's — (for I believe all young wives 
are, for the first two or three years, under tutelage, till 
they learn and fall into their liege lord's "ways") — I 
shall not undertake to say. 

After they leave for Europe, I shall return to my na- 
tive hills in New Hampshire, and settle down a village 
old maid of twenty-two, and with the reputation, among 
the simple folks, of being a great traveler. 

Yours truly, 

Kate. 



382 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 



Dear Mr.- 



LETTER L. 

Hotel, St. Louis. 



To-day we embark for Havana, that city towards 
which so many filibustering eyes are at this time directed. 
The bustle and hurry of packing and getting our trunks 
on board is over, and there are yet three hours to spare, 
in which quiet and a pen would be, by contrast with the 
turmoil of the hotel, a great luxury. But as I wrote 
you only yesterday, I will use my leisure and my pen 
for the purpose of writing a letter to my Yankee bro- 
ther away by the hills of New Hampshire, those glorious 
snow-capped pillars of the clouds upon whose summits 
the intellect of Webster has enkindled a blaze that shall 
light the remotest posterities. Wrapped in his senato- 
rial gown, he has laid down to rest among the mighty 
dead of the past, himself one of the mightiest of them all. 

But my poor pen is too humble and impotent to speak 
of such a man. His peers only should attempt it, and 
where, at this day, are they to be looked for ! 

My little brother, of whom I speak, is my regular 
correspondent, or rather I write to Mm regularly, and in 
return I receive certain hieroglyphics in the shape of 
very crooked pot-hooks and trammels, crossed in various 
directions by bold, independent strokes, which no doubt 
show energy, but are quite incomprehensible. In a word, 
my brother is too small yet to know how to write, but he 



THE SOUTIIERXER AT HOME. 383 

is too gallant a little fellow to leave a lady's letter unan- 
swered, and so sends me the best fist he can achieve. 
As it would gratify him very much to have a printed let- 
ter, Mr. , I will just write to him through your 

columns, and let his sister read it to him when it reaches 
her. 

" My dear little Charley : — There is some satisfac- 
tion and pleasure in writing to you, as I know you can't 
ivrite in return, and that your little heart will dance with 
gladness to get a letter from your sister Kate all in print. 
You remember, Charley, I said to you, in my last letter 
from that French gentleman's house, Mr. De Clery, that 
the blue-birds had built a nest in the piazza. Now I 
have a story to tell you about these same birds. 

" One day the sun was shining very warm, and Isabel 
wanted to make a grass wreath for the colonel's hat, so 
we walked out to gather some pretty green grass, and as 
I walked along what should I spy but a little, tiny blue- 
bird, that was not old enough to walk ? There he lay, 
roasting in the hot sun, and no one near him ! Poor 
thing ! he soon would have died, but I took him up, and 
he nestled down in my hand just like a little baby on its 
mamma's lap. I thought if dear little Leila, your sister, 
should fall out of doors, how grateful I should be to any 
one who would take care of her. So I took the little 
bird, and laid it in the shade in some nice grass, so that 
its mother might see it, and know it was alive. I then 
went away a little distance and watched it. After a 
while two old blue-birds flew to the tree, and began to 
flutter and chirp in great trouble, and they then talked 
to each other, and afterwards I saw them fly down on 
the grass, and try and coax the poor little bird to follow 



384 THE SUNNY south; or, 

them. The fiithcr took a worm in his mouth, and hop- 
ping down, fed it, and then running away a few steps, 
chirped and coaxed, but the httle thing could not fly. 
Then the old bird went away, and told his neighbors and 
friends of his trouble, while the good mother sat by, 
soothing and comforting her baby. 

^' In a short time, the old bird came back with troops 
of friends — yellow-birds, robins, mocking-birds, orioles, 
sparrows, and black -martins. They all took the deepest 
interest in the unhappy little thing, and would fly down, 
around it, and over it, almost touching it with their soft 
wings, all the while chirping in the greatest excitement, 
but the little baby -bird sat quiet and trembling in the 
little bed of grass I had put it on, its eyes half closed. 
Then two young blue-birds, which, I guess, were its 
cousins, went and gave him a pink-colored worm, which 
it ate as if it were very hungry. Such singing and 
talking as were now heard in the tree you have no idea, 
for new friends kept coming, and the sorrowful parents 
had to tell each new comer their pitiful tale. I think, 
dear Charley, that birds can talk as well as children, 
though we cannot always understand them. These birds 
seemed to say : 

" ' Poor birdie ! you are to be pitied. You are so little, 
and you have fallen out of your mother's nest, and we 
can't put you back. Don't you think you can use your 
little wings, and fly up ? ' 

"' See me,' says the yellow-bird, ' see how I fly !' and 
away it went from bush to bush. 

" ' Now,' says the mother, from a little, low stump, 'just 
hop here. You can soon do it, and we will get you back 
to the nest where you fell from.' 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 385 

Still the little bird never stirred, only lifting its eyes 
pitifully, and moved not a feather of its half-grown 
wings. 

"Presently hopped along a ground-sparrow, in his 
neat gray coat, and said, smartly : 

"'Come, little fellow, hop after me! Hop! one- 
two— three— right into the tree ! Hop first, and then 
you will fly! Come, now— one hop, two hops, three 
hops, and then away go we !' 

" And away went master sparrow, but alone by him- 
self, for birdie moved not an inch. 

" Then all the birds got on one tree near by, and held 
a great confab, and by the way they chattered, they 
seemed very much distressed that they could not, with 
all their coaxing, get the little bird up into the nest 
again. Then I went into the house, and took my little 
work-basket, and lined it softly with white cotton-wool, 
and went softly to it and laid birdie down carefully in it, 
as nice as bird could wish to be, for the night was com- 
ing on, and the ground was cold and damp. The birds 
looked on, and did not fly away, but seemed to know the 
little fellow had found a friend, and by their chirping, 
after I had done, they seemed ^ght pleased that it was 
so well cared for, for I tucked the cotton in all round 
its sides, leaving only its little head peeping out, just as 
I have seen you when you were a baby, tucked into your 
crib under the snow-white sheets. 

" When I went into the house, I told the colonel and 
Mr. De Clery the story. The kind, good French gentle- 
man then got a servant to bring a step-ladder, and went 
up to the nest, and I reached up to him the wee birdie, 
to put into it with his three little brothers and sisters, 
25. 



386 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

•who were all safe in bed, tucked under their mammals 
wing. You never saw any thing so happy as the mother 
looked when the little runaway was nestled again under 
her feathers, and all the rest of the birds seemed to 
rejoice with her ; they chirped and sang so loudly and 
noisily. I think the little bird was very glad to get 
back again into its warm nest, and will be very careful 
not to fall out again. I suspect he disobeyed his mo- 
ther, and leaned too far over the edge, just as some lit- 
tle boys stretch their heads out of the window, when 
their mother tells them not, and then away they fall out. 
But little boys do not live when they fall, as they strike 
the hard stones and are killed ; and, if that little bird 
had struck on a stone, instead of the soft grass, he too 
would have died. When you and little cousin Fred get 
up to the windows, remember the little blue-bird and be 
careful not to lean too far out. 

'' Now, good-bye, dear Charley, and remember the lit- 
tle blue-bird and his fate, and take warning, and I shall 
be more than repaid for writing the history of his mis- 
hap. Be a good little fellow, and kiss your ma, and my 
little sister, and cousin for me over and over again, and 
tell mamma that sister ^3bte will soon be at home, after 
her three years' absence. 

" Your loving sister, 

"Kate." 

Now, Mr. , I know a letter to a child is not the 

wisest piece of composition that ever was penned, but 
Charley is a fine little fellow, and may be an editor him- 
self one of these days ; so, if you will be so good as to 



TIIK SOUTIIEllXEll AT HOME. 387 

print the letter, I will be very mucli obliged to you, 
and send an extra paper containing it to Charley him- 
self. The signal to embark is now heard, and I must 
end. 

Your friend truly, 

Kate. 



^ 



388 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 



LETTER LI. 

Steamer Crescent, Gulp of Mkxico. 



Dear Mr. 



If the penmanship of this letter be a little wavy, 
and old Stephen Hopkins-like, you must attribute it to 
the unsteadiness of the ship, which goes prancing and 
bounding across the great green waves like a black war- 
horse, breathing smoke and fire from his nostrils. 

We left New Orleans day before yesterday, with a 
large number of passengers, and in a few hours were 
past the Balize on the bosom of this inland sea. The 
run down the one hundred and twenty miles of river was 
very interesting. The shores w^ere lined for many leagues 
with the lemon-colored or snow-white villas of the opulent 
sugar planters, half hid in groves of oak, elm, and orange 
trees, the latter bearing stUl the scathing marks of the last 
frost, which laid their ^i^j^^d and golden glories in the 
dust. It was pleasant, as we steamed along, to see the 
families upon their piazzas, watching us with spy-glasses 
or waving kerchiefs (the gentlemen red silk and the ladies 
cambric) to friends on board, who waved kerchiefs, and 
hands, and hats, and scarfs back again ; the French peo- 
ple sending kisses shoreward from the tips of their fin- 
gers — a very graceful feat, and requiring some skill in 
archery to send them straight at the ruby lips for which 
they are aimed ! 



TnE SOUTHERNEll AT HOME. 380 

I amused myself, as we steamed down, in watching the 
fishing canoes of the negroes, and coast luggers, manned 
by Spaniards and bj French Creoles, which were either 
reposing on the water or moving in all directions across 
the dark, buff-colored surface. The shores were con- 
stantly beautiful, and Avith bordering roads as level as a 
church aisle for leagues. The "English Turn" is a re- 
markable bend, in which the river doubles back upon its 
course, and runs northwardly for a few miles, and then 
as abruptly shears off southwardly towards the Gulf, as 
it ought to do. But great rivers must have their vaga- 
ries, Mr. , as well as other folks, — and the Father 

of Waters, considering his age and experience, may Avell 
be allowed one in his course through* the world. But 
this one, it is said, sorely puzzled some English boats, 
once upon a time, ascending the stream ; for when they 
found by compass that they were running south again, 
they imagined they had only been following an arm of 
the gulf, and so turned about, and went back the way 
they had come, and thus saved the then French city of 
New Orleans from a hostile visit. Hence the name of 
the place — at least so said a nautical-looking gentleman 
who stood near Isidore, and ^ig bride, and myself, and 
kindly volunteered this piece of information ; but tra- 
velers sometimes get their ears filled with strange tales, 
hence so many veracious Munchausens printed from year 
to year by authentic tourists. Dear me ! If I should 
believe one half I hear in my travels, I might publish out 
of the selection a very interesting volume of travels, new 
edition, with wood-cuts, beautifully colored, and a por- 
trait of Mr. Gulliver, jr. facing the title page. 

You may depend, Mr. , upon all I tell y^u as sober 



Q 



90 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 



truth, even the tiger story, that some naughty person has 
been so uncivil as to throw doubt upon. Please tell him 
never to doubt a lady's word. When we had got about 
fifty miles below the city, we had passed the ranges of 
susar estates, and the shores were in the uncultivated 
wildness of Nature. They were level to the horizon, and 
from the wheel-house, one gazed over a vast savannah 
of eternal green — a sea of foliage — amid which, like a 
huge, brown, shining serpent, the Mississippi wound and 
interwound its tortuous course. 

It was novel to see the masts of invisible ships ascend- 
ing and descending far across the green level, a league 
off, in another portion of the bending river, while at in- 
tervals, from the bosom of the savannah, would rise 
columns of black smoke, indicating the passage of a 
steamer, the hull of which was invisible below the level 
of the tree tops. The sun shone magnificently, and the 
air was like that of May in New England. On board, 
our party was in fine spirits, and Isabel seemed in her 
enjoyment of the trip to forget that she was a "married 
lady," and ought to put away such juvenilities as clap- 
ping her hands at anything striking or pretty she saw 
on the shores. Her extreme beauty, and the noble in- 
telligence in all her face, caused her to be much observed 
and greatly admired ; while the young gentlemen looked 
as if they would like to throw the handsome, happy Isi- 
dore overboard. 

How is it that most men always have a lurking dislike 
towards a man with a handsome wife ? The colonel says 
it is so, and he ought to know I suppose. Now, if I see 
a lady with a perfect Adonis of a husband — poh! I don't 
think of , feeling envious of her — not I ! I only feel glad 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 391 

for him — if he looks like a fine-hearted and generous 
fellow — that he has got such a handsome wife. But you 
men are never half so amiable as we are. 

TJie French gentleman from New Orleans, is on board, 
a passenger, and I think he is one of the most agreeable, 
modest young men I ever saw. He has somehow read 
some of my letters, and has taken quite a fancy to talk 
with me. I don't mean to say that he talks love — oh ! we 
are both too sensible for anything of that kind. We 
talk of literary men and women, of the literature of Ger- 
many and Spain, with which he is perfectly familiar ; we 
talk of nature, of the universe, and its infinite grandeur 
and beauty ; of the spirit world and of God, the centre 
and source of all. Though raised in the Roman faith, 
he is, I have discovered, more of a philosopher than a 
Christian, and seems to have a religion of his own, which 
is based upon his love of the beautiful and good in the 
world. He says that if we adore nature, we adore God 
who made it. In a word, his piety is intellectual, not 
moral; meditative, nothing more; and we have keen ar- 
guments upon the faith of the New Testament. He said 
to me to-day, 

"I understand God, but I do not understand Jesus. 
I do not see the need of Him : He is an incomprehensive 
enigma to me." 

Ah, me ! I fear I was a poor theologian to argue with 
an educated mind like his ; but I did my best to show 
him the true nature and design of Christ's advent; and 
he listened with great attention, and has promised to 
read some books I am to lend him. 

Before night we came in sight of the Balize, or "Bea- 
con," at the outlet of the river, and launched amid the 



392 THE SUNNY SOUTU; OR, 

glories of an autumnal evening, upon the azure bosom 
of the Mexican Sea ; the gleaming lantern of the Pharos, 
at the mouth of the pass, sending after us a long pen- 
ciled line of glittering light. 

And such a night upon the sea ! Oh ! how marvellous 
the universe above, illimitable and unfathomable in its 
splendid stellar mysteries ! The delicious breezes blew 
off land, and gently ruffled the bosom of the Gulf. There 
was a strange light over all the sea, and filling the hea- 
vens and the air. There was no moon, and it must have 
come from the myriads of bright stars reflected back 
from the sea, multiplied in numbers by the reflection. 
Earth absorbs the star-rays, but the sea seems to receive 
them mirror-like, to r^-light the sky with. It was as 
light as dawn, and yet it was near midnight, as I gazed 
from the deck upon the starry infinity. In the south, 
Sirius hung like a great electric globe, dazzling the eye 
like a lesser sun ; Orion walked down the west, sword- 
armed and belted, flashing like a warrior; and, above 
him, Aldebaran beamed with those mystic rays which 
have foretold the fate of empires to astrologers ; higher 
still hung the Pleiades, like a cluster of grapes, and 
scintillating with a splendor truly celestial. I never be- 
fore saw the stars shine so brightly. 

In the north-east, I beheld Arcturus rivaling Sirius 
in the south, in stellar magnificence; and around the 
solitary Polar Star (in this latitude, low in the north) 
paced the Great Bear with majestic strides. Ah! there 
is nothing in this world so beautiful as a starry night on 
the sea. Heaven above — heaven around — heaven re- 
flected beneath. There is such a transparency in the 
atmosphere, that the skies seem within the reach of the 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 39B 

arm. A tranquillity unspeakable reigns in the upper 
air, and the heart is attracted gently up-svard, and the 
thoughts irresistibly dwell on heaven and God, and the 
great eternity, of which the skies are a visible emblem. 

Speaking of the Pleiades, was there ever a seventh? 
and if not, what becomes of Mrs. Heman's swxet address 
to the "lost Pleiad?" 

I have always loved the stars — loved them more than 
the moon. When I was in Tennessee, I was w^alking 
with a little fellow, of four years, on the piazza, who had 
just recovered from the measles. He looked up, per- 
haps for the first time suffered to be up so late, to see 
the stars, and said to me naively, and as if he had made 
a discovery, 

"Dear Miss Katy, the sties dot the measles!" "No, 
buddie," cried his sister, two years older, "they are only 
all freckled!''' 

Both words are descriptive — and the last decidedly 
poetical. It was the same little girl who, looking out 
of the window one foggy morning and seeing nothing, 
said — 

"It looks as if there were no w^orld!" 

What can be finer than this ? If the sayings of child- 
ren were printed, they would make a book surpassing all 
others for naturalness, poetry, truth, and originality of 
ideas. 

It is past midnight on the sea ! 

Good-night, 

K. C. 



394 THE SUNNY SOUTH: OR, 



LETTER LII. 



Off Havana. 



Dear Mr. 



With the queen citj of Western Ind just disap- 
pearing from sight, and the Castle of the Moro visible 
like a gray speck against the back-ground of the blue 
hills of Cuba, I retire to my state-room to collect my 
thoughts, and write you a few pages of a letter. 

The scenery, which is yet visible from the port by 
which I sit, is beautiful exceedingly. The azure outline 
of the sunny Isle reclines in majestic repose, like a 
mighty lion, his form half concealed in the green bosom 
of the sea. About the frowning Moro floats the smoke 
of cannon, fired to salute an American ship-of-war, which 
entered as we passed out. 

Around us are the white sails of full thirty vessels, 
ships, and brigs, and schooners, steering in all ways; 
though most of them, like ourselves, are just out of 
Havana, and are stretching away to the northward and 
eastwardly. 

You will expect me, I dare say, to give you some ac- 
count of what I saw in Havana. But the " letter writers" 
have filled the papers with everything, until Havana is 
now as well known to Americans as New York. If I 
spoke of my brief visit, (for it lasted but a day,) I should 
"write of pure, soft skies of mingled gold and green — of 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 395 

delightful breezes — of tall cocoa and palm trees like 
kings and queens of the vegetable kingdom, standing 
gloriously upon hill tops and upon the crests of cliffs, and 
waving their superb feathers in the passing breeze — of a 
great castle, gray and old, and dreadfully frowning, 
hanging from a rock like a giant's eyebrow, with camion 
beneath, flashing like eyes — and long lines of open- 
mouthed guns belching forth fire and blue smoke — of 
dark visaged soldiers, dressed very much in red, and 
fierce with terrific moustaches — of police-boats, boarding 
us, filled with blue-coated, black-eyed Spanish ofiicers, as 
polite as French dancing-masters in bodily gesticula- 
tions, but looking very dislikable and disliking out of 
their eyes — of narrow streets — of half-clad Guinea 
negroes crowding the pier — of guards and military dis- 
play — of huge-wheeled volantes and gaudily-harnessed 
mules and postillions, with boots a yard high — of small- 
sized Spanish generals — of thin-visaged Spanish colonels 
— and of great pomp, and show, and trumpets, and guns, 
and cigar smoke, and cigar shops, everywhere — &c., &c. 
The ladies rode out three on a seat, in open, odd- 
looking carriages (volantes), wore no bonnets, but had 
their hair superbly dressed, while they were richly at- 
tired, as if for a ball. I did not see the '^Paseo" outside 
of the city, where everybody rides and walks — the 
"Battery" of Havana — as we had no time; but I had 
pointed out to me the fortified hill "Antares," on which 
the devoted Crittenden — who will yet be remembered as 
the Pulaski of Cuba — with his fifty companions in arms 
met his dreadful fate. Oh ! what a fearful responsibility 
in taking away the life of a man which God gave ! God, 
on one side, giving; man — little, insignificant man, on 



396 THE suxNY south; or, 

the other side, taking awaj ! To destroy what we cannot 
replace is a weighty matter. To destroy, when we know 
not what we destroy, is the act of madness and folly. 
Who knows what he does when he kills a man? Who 
knows what life is ? I think all killing, whether by the 
assassin or by the law, equally dreadful. Why kill a 
man to punish him ? It is no punishment to the dead. 
I do hope that the day is not far distant w^hen humanity 
will rise superior to this relic of barbarism, "execution 
of Avrong-doers," and that they may be permitted to 
live in confinement until they die " by the visitation of 
God." 

The city of Havana has a very interesting aspect to a 
Yankee eye. It is so foreign, and unlike any thing we 
have in the United States. One must certainly go from 
home to see the world — but at Havana, one not only sees 
the world, but more, too ! 

The warlike appearance of the entrance to the harbor 
reminds me of a pair of bull-dogs, crouching and showing 
their teeth at all corners. What a grand sight a war- 
ship is, with its rows of cannon looking so meaningly 
forth from the yawning port-holes, her tall black masts, 
and yards, and lofty battle-walls of oak ! One passed 
us two hours ago, and seemed to move as if she were the 
very empress of the sea. Over her quarter-deck floated 
the red flag of England, with its double-cross — a fearful- 
looking ensign when I recalled its associations. Once, 
to American eyes, that flag was the flag of the foe — and 
hateful and detested. Against it, Paul Jones the brave 
hurled his iron shot — and the gallant Preble, and Perry, 
and Hull, and Bainbridge, fought against and conquered 
it. As the insignia of conquerors, it waved above the 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 397 

trees of Boston Common, floated above the Battery in 
New York, flashed in the morning sun above the tower 
of the old State House in Philadelphia, and even cast its 
dread shadow down upon the dome of the Capitol at 
Washino-ton. I could not but watch it with interest; 
but when I glanced above our own decks, and beheld the 
brilliant stars and stripes waving in the upper air in folds 
of beauty, I thought, too, of its glories, and my heart 
bounded with pride, and I could not help mentally apos- 
trophizing the red flag of Great Britain in this fashion: 
— "Thou hast hitherto ruled the wave, Britannia, but 
the day is near when these starry belts shall float, not 
only over the seas of the globe, but over its broad con- 
tinents, and the sceptres of the nations shall do homage 
thereto." 

Oh ! who can predict the glory of our mighty empire 

of republics, Mr. ? Adelante! adelante! onward 

and forward for ever is its destiny, if its rulers fear God, 
and the people are virtuous and true to themselves. It 
is said by some one, that history always revolves in cir- 
cles ; at each vast revolution of centuries bringing back 
again the same or like scenes, events, circumstances, and 
issues. No doubt this is true, and that the mighty cir- 
cle of American history will bring round its "decay and 
fall of the American Republics" in the course of time. 
Southey has said finely, but I hope not truly, that "the 
Republics of the United States are splendid fragments 
out of which future kingdoms and empires are to be 
created." 

Speaking of the destiny of my country, forces upon 
my mind the recollection of Clay, Calhoun, and Web- 
ster ! Living, they formed a large portion of our glory 



898 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

and honor as a nation before the nations. Dead, we 
have fallen before the nations, just so far as their great 
names, and deeds, and splendid fame raised us. Alas ! 
for my native land ! Who can wield the helm of state, 
or fill the Senate with wisdom needed, surpassing that 
which Rome or Greece ever knew? Who shall be Web- 
ster ? who shall be Clay ? who shall be Calhoun ? — in the 
next Senate, and the Senates after? Far down the de- 
files of time the voice of inquiry shall pass, ere echo an- 
swers, "Behold him here!" 

Has it ever occurred to you, sir, that these three 
mighty men — these three intellectual "Sons of Anak" — 
represented, personally, mentally, and in all things na- 
tional, the three great divisions of the Union? New 
England and the North were embodied in Webster ! the 
West was personified and incarnate in Clay! the South 
in Calhoun ! Thus, the North, South, and West, were 
personated by an intellectual incarnation of its own pecu- 
liar character in these three men. Each showed the 
characteristics of the division of the Union from which 
he sprung. The South could never have produced Web- 
ster — nor the North, Calhoun — nor the West, either of 
them — nor either of these. Clay. This idea is worth 
reflecting upon, and would be a good theme for some 
eloquent pen. 

But I am making a long letter; and as evening is 
coming on, and as every body is exclaiming about the 
Bahama Islands being in sight, I must stop, and go to 
see these pearls in the belt of old Neptune. 

Yours, 

Kate. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 399 



LETTER LIII. 

Irvinq House, NevT York. 



Dear Mr. : 

From the date of this letter jou see that I am at last 
in the London of the New World. From Havana to 
this city, we had a delightful run ; the genii of the wea- 
ther being in the best of humors, and Neptune so fast 
asleep that we only knew that he was alive by the regu- 
lar, deep pulsations of his broad oceanic heart. 

To my surprise, I learned that when the sea is per- 
fectly calm, and its surface glitters with the polished gla- 
ciery of a mirror, the outline of its surface is never at 
rest. So far as waves are concerned, there are at such 
times none; but there is avast, grand heaving of the 
sea, as if a mighty, living heart were regularly movino- 
and lifting it from beneath. The whole ocean seems to 
breathe ! and its limitless bosom to rise and fall like that 
of a sleeping man. And this motion of life has been 
from " the beginning !" Six thousand years it has moved 
thus in its mighty pulsations, and its heart will continue 
to move and beat thus after the pulses of the millions 
that now live will be silent ! What an emblem of eter- 
nity — a life of six thousand years ! 

On our voyage, we passed a great number of white- 
sailed vessels, some going, as we were, northwardly, and 
others steering towards the warm South ; while others 



400 ■ THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

met us transversly, coming out of Baltimore and Phila- 
delj3hia, bound oceanward, or else from Europe, seeking 
those ports. We also saw three ocean steamers, whose 
black hulls and trailing clouds of murky smoke, made 
them seem, as they moved among the vessels with snowy 
sails, like a sort of demons, saucily intruding into the 
company of good angels. 

It is very pleasant on the sea, nevertheless, in one of 
these same " diabolical" looking steamers. Our cabins 
were magnificent, and we enjoyed every shore luxury. 
They are ^'Irving Houses" afloat; and we live pretty 
much as persons do at "springs" in a rainy day that 
keeps everybody luitJiin doors. There are books in va- 
riety for the literary, pens and ink for the epistolarian, 
cards for the play-loving, chess for the quiet, back-gam- 
mon for the noisy, sandwiches and ale for the hungry, a 
smoking-room for the smoky, sofas and lounges for the 
idle and lazily disposed, couches for the sleepy, prome- 
nades for the restless, and good dinner and plenty of 
champagne for everybody. 

Our passengers consisted of about forty people, who 
represented no less than nine nations : a Chinese, a Pole, 
a Mexican, several Englishmen, several Americans, three 
Cuban ladies and one Cuban gentleman, four Frenchmen, 
a Spaniard, and a German traveler with a red moustache, 
who was called by his valet "Baron." There was also 
a handsome young man who was a Jew ! 

Has the Jew a nation ? — if so, then we had ten nations 
represented in our cabin. How extraordinary that one 
can always tell a Jew ! or rather, let me call them " Is- 
raelites," which is the honorable name conferred upon 
them by Jehovah, and by which they like to be distin- 



THE SOUTnEENER AT HOME. 401 

guished — the term ''Jew" being quite as repulsive to them 
as "Yankee" to the New Enghinder. That this wonder- 
ful people bear the impress of their Oriental origin to 
this day, after seventeen hundred years of exile and dis- 
persion, is a continued miracle. The Jew of Chatham 
street, in this city, is, in every lineament, the Jew of 
Jerusalem of to-day, and of the Jews of the days of Jesus. 
In what this peculiarity consists, it is difficult to deter- 
mine precisely, though an artist, who studies closely the 
characteristics of feature, might be able to explain. 

It is chiefly in the style and expression of the eyes I 
think. It is not because the eye is black — for thousands 
of Americans have black eyes, which are wholly different 
in expression from the peculiar Jewish eye. The Israel- 
ite eye is very slightly almond-shaped, the upper lid 
droops over about one-seventh of the iris of the eye, and 
gives an indescribable expression ; while the lashes curve 
backwards, and have the effect of a fringe, more than any 
other lashes of any other people's eyes. The expression 
of the whole eye is sad, yet sparkling — dewy, yet brilliant 
— a sort of April-sky eyei. Dear me ! how difficult it is to 
put ideas into words — to find the words that exactly 
paint that which we are endeavoring to describe. Words 
are very important dresses for thoughts. But if you 
have ever observed the eye of the Children of Israel, you 
will be able to understand the peculiarity I would de- 
scribe. 

How wonderful the presence of this people among us 
and other nations ! A people, yet without a country ! a 
religion, yet without altar, priest, or temple ! a God, yet 
punished by Him with a dispersion of one thousand seven 
hundred years ! Their present state is a living testimony 
26 



402 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

to the truth of the Bible, wherein it is predicted, as well 
also, their future restoration to their own country ! 

Perhaps, in connection with them, the fact that their 
number is still, 3,000,000 of souls, will be deemed not 
the least extraordinary. This number came out of 
Egypt with Moses — this number conquered the land of 
Canaan — this number constituted the nation when David 
and Solomon were its kings — this number was carried 
captive to Babylon — and the same number restored again 
to their land at the re-building of the temple, — the same 
number were taxed by the Roman conquerors when they 
brought Judea into subjection — and the same number 
paid tribute to Caesar — the same number, subtracting the 
million which perished at the taking of Jerusalem, were 
cast out among the nations at the destruction of their 
city by Titus, in the first centujy, when commenced 
"the dispersion among the nations of the earth," which 
still continues in so remarkable a manner; and the late 
census of their people shows that their number is still 
8,000,000. This, then, is a nation in itself, though a 
broken one, separated by continents and oceans, fragment 
from fragment — yet one in feature, one in language, one 
in religion, one in pursuit, one in all things that have 
ever given them individuality as a nation. Their num- 
ber is equal to that of the population of the Thirteen 
Colonies at the Declaration of our Independence — a num- 
ber large enough, as our history and the testimony of 
the world shows, to lay the foundation of a mighty em- 
pire ! 

For what is this remarkable and careful preservation 
of the Israelite? Ever dwellins: among; the Gentiles — 
yet never commingling with them, they never lose their 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 403 

nationality. For what reason tliis preservation of their 
original numhers ? Without question to be ready to obey 
the command that shall one day fall upon their awaiting 
ears : " Up, Israel, and go into thine own land, for I 
will make of thee a great nation. The glory of Jerusalem 
shall fill the whole earth, and the kings of the earth shall 
bring their glory and honor into it, and I will make thy 
name glorious among the nations." 

And what a spectacle will be presented when they arise 
as one man to obey the voice of Jehovah ! It will be a 
second march, like that forth from Egypt. Every land, 
every city, every town, almost every hamlet, where men 
trade and do commerce with men, will give up this people 
amonff them — and this "nation of merchants," laden 
with gold and silver, the spoils of the Gentiles, shall 
direct their way towards Jerusalem, the city of their love 
and pride. From every sea-port will sail ships laden 
with the sons of Israel, steering for Palestina, and from 
every inland town go forth wealthy caravans taking the 
road towards the City of David. The present exodus to 
California and Australia, for gold of the Gentiles, in a 
thousand ships, will give a faint idea only of the mighty 
movement that shall draw the eyes of the world when 
Israel shall arise in her numbers, and elevating the 
standard of the "Lion of the Tribe of Judah," gather 
her outcasts beneath its shadow for the march. 

And when the land of Canaan shall once more shake 
with the tread of returning Israel — when the thousand 
cities of her green vales shall be rebuilt — when Jerusalem 
shall lift up her head from the dust of centuries, and 
dazzle the world's eye with her regenerated splendor — 
when the ports of Tyre, Jafi*a, Sidon, and Cesarea shall 



404 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OE, 

once more extend their marble piers into the sea to em- 
brace the commerce of the world — then will the Israelite 
take his true place among the nations, and, from his 
geographical position, command the avenues of the earth's 
commerce. At her feet, on the east, the Gulf of Persia 
and the Euphrates will pour the wealth of India into her 
lap—^-on the west, the Mediterranean will enrich her with 
a thousand fleets — on the north, from the Baltic and 
Caspian, she will receive the tributes of merchandise — 
and from the south, from Egypt and the Red Sea, she 
will lay her hand upon the wealth of Ethiopia and 
Australia. She will sit enthroned in the true commercial 
centre of the earth, and, from the vast wealth that her 
people will carry to her from the nations wherein they 
have been dispersed, they will be able to control the 
commercial empire of the whole globe; and this same 
wealth will enable them to make Judea a land of cities 
that will rival all those of other lands, and render their 
country the very heart of luxury, and of the splendor 
and power of the earth. 

And this is no visionary speculation. It is to come 
to pass in the years that are before us, for prophecy 
hath spoken the word. It is from many hours' conversa- 
tion with the youthful Israelite, our fellow-passenger, 
that I have become so interested in his nation — hence 
my enthusiasm in the foregoing pages. 

Very sincerely, your friend, 

Kate. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 405 



LETTER LIV. 

My Dear Sir: 

You will find me, after having been so near you as 
New York, receding again from you, and my next letter 
will be from the bosom of my native hills, in the north 
of dear New England. My last was written from New 
York, where we arrived seven days ago, by the Crescent 
City, as I have already stated. 

The fifth day after reaching that Babel of confusion of 
tongues and of omnibuses, Isidore and Isabel embarked 
for England in the steamer. During their brief stay in 
New York they visited every place of interest, I being 
in their company, with the addition of Monsieur de 
Cressy from New Orleans, who had fairly attached him- 
self — not to me — no, no, — but to our party. 

It was a sad parting that, between Isabel and myself. 
I accompanied her on board the steamer, and again took 
leave of her to return to the city. I shed more tears 
that day than ever I did before, and my eyes still over 
flow when I reflect that I may never see again the sweet 
lovely girl, who for three years has been my pupil, and 
who as a married woman is now fairly launched upon 
the stormy billows of life. That she will be happy I 
have no doubt, for M. de Clery is very devoted, and 
seems every way worthy of her. My only consolation 
is now in the prospect of letters from her, as she has 



406 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

promised to write me every two weeks while she is 
abroad. The colonel intended to have accompanied his 
accomplished daughter, but the day before they sailed he 
received a letter informing him of the death of his over- 
seer, and of sickness among the slaves upon his estate 
in Tennessee. He accordingly delayed only to see them 
embark, and the next day, after accompanying me to 
the New Haven and Boston cars, to bid me good bye, 
started for the West, sad at heart, with parting from so 
beloved a child as Isabel had ever been. When he shook 
me by the hand to speak ''good bye," his eyes filled 
with tears; and he said, 

"Be a good girl, Kate! Next to Bel, you are dear to 
me. Write to me often, for in your letters and Bel's 
remain my only solace now; and look you, dear Kate, 
don't fall in love and marry somebody or other that 
can't appreciate you. Write and tell me all about your- 
self, and give my love to your dear good mother, and 
kiss the little folk for me, and don't forget to give them 
the presents!" 

He then whispered in a low tone, ''Don't lose your 
heart, Kate, to De Cressy." 

He then — kissed me, Mr. , and I hid my face 

with my thick veil to conceal my tears ; and so I saw the 
dear good colonel no more ! The best of heaven's beni- 
sons be upon him ! 

I was not alone in my journey to Boston. I was 
placed in charge of our Member of Congress from Ten- 
nessee, who, with his lady, was taking a trip to see the 
Yankee Capital, and purchase a few Yankee notions as 
curiosities for their children at home. There was, be- 
sides, in the cars by chance, M. de Cressy, the handsome 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 407 

young New Orleans gentleman, who was on his way to 
Montreal. He was very civil and kind, and did all he 
could to make me cheerful, and pointed out the pretty 
bits of scenery. The ride to Boston was very dull, all 
that he could do, and I fear I was very poor company 
for any one. At length we came in sight of the massive 
dome of the state-house, crowning the city, to which 
three years before I had bidden adieu on my way south ; 
and before I could believe the fact, I found myself in the 
heart of the city, opposite the United States Hotel. 

We are at the Revere House, a very elegant establish- 
ment, kept in the finest way. Boston is an odd-looking 
city, with inexpressibly tortuous streets, and narrow; 
while the habitations usually are the plainest structures 
that brick, mortar, and stone can erect. The door en- 
trances are, half of them, mere square cuts in the brick, 
wholly destitute of ornament or grace. The public 
buildings are very grand and massive: but as a city, 
Boston is surpassed by New York, Philadelphia, and 
Baltimore. But as to intellect, for great men, for ju- 
rists, statesmen, and princely educated merchants, no 
city is its peer. 

I have visited to-day old Fanueil Hall, through which 
the mighty voice of Webster has reverberated ; also the 
old State-house, associated with the early Colonial his- 
tory of the Commonwealth ; also the place of the British 
massacre in State street; the site of the famous "Liberty 
Tree;" the wharf from which the tea was thrown into 
the harbor; the house where Washington lived; and 
Bunker's Hill, upon which the monument of enduring 
p-ranite rises like a gigantic needle, hundreds of feet into 
the blue ether; "the first object to catch the beams of 



403 THE SUNNY south; or, 

the rising sun, Avhich tremble last upon its skj-piercing 
pinnacle!" 

These Boston folk are very aristocratic — more so and 
more English than other Americans. They are very 
literary, too, and among them are a large number of 
scholars of both sexes. The Countess d' Ossoli, so un- 
happily lost at sea, was a noble specimen of these Bos- 
ton literary women. German is a great deal studied 
here, and where it is not studied, its knowledge is 
affected. No person here is considered at all literary 
without German! and the possession of this, without 
much brains, is a passport into the "Book Society." 

The Boston people dress very primly — the men much 
more so than the ladies. The latter have a horrid fash- 
ion of bundling up themselves in cloaks and muffs in the 
winter, that is monstrous. They look exactly like Kam- 
schatka merchants waddling about. I had not seen a 
muff for so many years that they looked perfectly ludi- 
crous to me. I don't wonder the green Mississippi 
medical student wrote home that "all the girls in Bos- 
ton carried young bears in their hands when they went 
out." 

The churches here are very tall and numerous, and 
nice looking; but none very elegant. Trinity is a gray 
massive j)ile of architectural roch^ imposing and fortress- 
like. St. Paul's is a Grecian temple; Park Street a 
spire after the old Puritan pagoda fashion, lessening in 
a succession of white porticoes, one elevated, ad injinitwn, 
upon another, till it ended "into nothing," as the Hon. 
Mr. Slick once graphically described the same structure. 

Every body goes to Church here, and it is wicked to 
be seen in the streets in church hours, on Sunday, ex 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 409 

cept for doctors. Tiding men I believe no longer go 
about at such times with long rods ''seeking whom they 
may devour," that is, such small game as little boys play- 
ing truant from their seats in the pews. 

I have not yet had the pleasure of seeing dear good 
old Mistress Partington. Everybody seems to be well 
acquainted with her, but nobody seems to know where 
she "puts up." All I can learn is, that her maiden 
name was Green. As soon as I ascertain, I intend to 
call upon her and pay my respects ; for such an honor to 
Boston literature should not be lightly passed by. The 
good dame I understand is very thin, having lost much 
of her flesh in trying to master the German language, in 
order to be admitted into the "Blue-Stocking Club of 
Literary Ladies," the motto of which is "Nulla Comeina 
sine Germane." The unhappy old lady, it is rumored, 
dislocated her jaw the third lesson, in trying to pro- 
nounce "Ich," which it is said has contributed to her 
leanness, from inability to take only liquids. 

There is a probability of my leaving to-morrow for 

home, dear Mr. , and when I am once more in the 

quiet seclusion of my native village, I shall have nothing 
of interest to give occupation to my pen ; for the history 
of one day there is the history of every day in the year. 
I shall therefore send you but one letter more, informing 
you of my safe arrival amid the cherished scenes of my 
childhood. 

Your friend, very truly, 

Kate. 



410 THE SUNNY SOUTH; Oil, 



LETTER LV. 

My Dear Sir: 

Once more I find myself seated at the humble old 
fireside, beneath my mother's roof. Once more I see 
about me old familiar faces and familiar objects, every 
one of which carries me back by some association to my 
childhood. There is the tall mantel-piece, with the same 
bright brass candlesticks, which have been in use since 
I remember anything, placed symmetrically one on each 
end ; the mahogany clock in the corner, with a full moon 
rising above its round visage in blue clouds, and with face 
and eyes exactly like my dear old grandmother, whose 
smooth countenance was as round and good-natured as 
any full moon you ever saw. There are the two silhou- 
ette profiles in the jettest bla(j^k of my venerated father 
and of my mother, facing each other, over the little look- 
ing-glass between the windows ; my father with a queue, 
and my mother with a preposterously short waist and 
high cap — objects that I used to gaze upon with admira- 
tion when a child, only wondering why they were so 
black. 

There is also in one corner my little red cricket, on 
which I used to sit at my mother's knee, and learn the 
old Puritan catechism, and the dreadful story of John 
Roojers who was repi-cscnted in a famous wood-cut, tied 
to a stake, burning, and liis v/ife and nine children, one 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 411 

at the breast, lamentably standing around, with a wicked 
soldier stirring up the fire. The same little Primer — 
torn, dirty, with woful-looking dogs' ears — I now see on 
my mother's triangular little book-shelf in the corner. 

There sits my dear good mother, too, in her low rock- 
ing-chair, where she has sat, when she sat down at all, 
since my earliest recollection, with the same three-footed 
little stand by her side, to hold her thread-box and needle- 
book, and by night a candle. There she sits now in "7ier 
corner," as the one opposite used to be called '•'-pas cor- 
ner," and admiring my New York hat, and wondering 
"how fashions do change !" She is still handsome, with 
the same pure complexion of rose-red and white ; the 
same mild, motherly, kind eye ; the same quiet, serene, 
almost holy, smile ! But I cannot deceive my loving 
gaze by denying that she has changed since I left her. 
Her soft brown hair is streaked with silvery threads, and 
crosswise her forehead I discern lines that Time has en- 
graven there with his relentless burin. She will be fifty 
years of age next Christmas, and yet so gentle has been 
her disposition, so quiet the flow of the river of her daily 
life, that she looks (excepting the cross lines and silver 
hair) not more than five-and-thirty. She looks happier 
now than ever ; and once in a while I feel that, as I 
write, her eyes rest lovingly upon me, with a mother's 
deep love — while gratitude for my return in safety and 
health fills her soul heavenwardly. 

My little brother and sister are seated on the floor, 
enjoying the numerous presents which I brought them, 
and which filled a trunk by themselves ; for not only the 
colonel sent them man}^ but dearest Isabel and Isidore 
also. My letter to Charlie, v>-hich you printed so kindly, 



412 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

was received by him with uproarious joy. It was the 
village wonder for a week. All the good dames came in 
to read, or hear my mother read, a i^eal printed letter in 
the "noospapers" to a little boy. 

''Do tell !" Well, who'd ever ?" ''Now only tUnkr 
''A'n't it curious ?" were the exclamations of the good 
souls. 

But if my letter in print created such a sensation 
among our kind, unsophisticated neighbors, what must 
have been the sensation produced, think you, sir, at my 
return home ? It would be difficult to describe the scenes 
of welcoming which I passed through. Everybody came 
to see me, old and young, for a mile about ; and for three 
days I have been holding a levee; and have had to do 
talking enough for a three volume-book of travels, in 
order to gratify their homely curiosity about the South 
and the "black slaves," and cotton, and sugar, and 
oranges growing on trees, and how there was no snow, 
and the mocking-birds, and everything which was differ- 
ent from what they had in New Hampshire. 

" So you've seen fig-trees," said old Deacon Starks, 
looking at me with great respect. " Zaccheus climbed 
up into one ; and you have seen jist sich a tree ? And 
the Master went to one to get figs, and finding none, 
curst it. Wall, I'd liked to a seed somethin' with my 
own eyes as is in the Bible." 

" Do you think the loaves is big enuf for aprons, Miss ?" 
respectfully asked an old maid, a stranger and new-comer, 
who had been introduced as Miss Tape. 

''And you say you see pummcgranates on trees," ob- 
served the deacon, perse veringly ; " well, them are Bible 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 418 

fruits, because as tliej made the seven candlesticks like 
pummegranates. " 

" And does every South woman sleep with a gun under 
her pillow, to keep from bein' killed by the black slaves 
in the night? I wouldn't trust myself among the krit- 
ters. I never sees one here but I feel skeared, they are 
so black." 

"It's a marcy you ever got back safe," said old 
grandam Ford, who was as deaf as a door, and never 
waited for or expected replies. 

Every dress I have has been borrowed, and my trunks 
are empty, the contents going the rounds of the neigh- 
borhood. The truth is, I am the lioness of the village 
just now ; and I expect that I shall have as many as a 
dozen offers before New Year's, for it is reported I have 
"made my fortin teachin' down South," a pedagogical 

miracle, Mr. , which you can vouch for was never 

yet done on the earth. All the beaux are getting mea- 
sured for new suits at little Billy Buttonhole's, the tailor, 
who has promised to make seven complete suits by Sa- 
turday night, when the little Shears knows very well, 
that with his whole force of one woman and a white- 
headed lad, Tommy, he can't finish one. One thing is 
very fortunate, that it is not known here that I am an 
authoress at all, otherwise I have no doubt that Mr. 
Font, the village editor of the Democratic paper, "A 
Voice from the Mountains, and White Hills Democratic 
Investigator," would be annoying me with the honor of 
soliciting a contribution for his "Poet's Corner." 

This letter ends my literary career, Mr. . It has 

been brief and obscure, but nevertheless has been plea- 
sant to me. Monsieur do Crcssy (who chanced to occupy 



414 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

the same car with me as far as the depot near this vil- 
lage, and then continued on to Montreal,) insists that 
mj letters be collected and published in a volume. Dear 
me ! / write a bound book ? The idea is alarming. I 
fear mj letters, which may do well enough for a news- 
paper, would make a sorry figure between covers. But 

they are yours, Mr. , and if any of your readers 

(those dear friends whom, having not seen, I esteem and 
love) express a desire to have them put into a volume, 
I yield my own views to yours and theirs. If they 
should merit the honor of appearing in a book-form, I 
would like, if it were not too presumptuous, to call the 
book : — 

ISABEL; 

OR, 

THE GOVERNESS AND PUPIL: 

A TALE OP THE WEST AND SOUTH. 

IN A SERIES OF LETTERS, 

BY KATE CONYNGHAM. 

I suggest this title because the letters embrace a little 
romancero, as you have perceived from the beginning to 
the end, of which Isabel (not Kate) is the true heroine. 
Good-bye, Mr. , I thank you for your condescen- 
sion in admitting my poor writings into your columns, 
and I feel grateful to those dear friends who have spoken 
kindly of them. 

With blessings on you all, I remain. 

Your sincere friend, 

Kate Conyngham. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 415 



LETTER LVL 

My DEAR Mr. : 

I KNOW not how, patiently, to reply to your saucy 
letter to me ! Indeed, you write as if you fancied that 
"a correspondent once" is a correspondent forever of 
your Journal. And then to intimate that my little Nee- 
dle possibly may stand in the way of your getting large 
Needles for your paper ! How did you find out that I 
was married? and how did you learn where the quiet 
corner of the South is where I have been for nearly two 
years a happy wife? 

Your letter took me quite by surprise, and my sharp- 
eyed little Needle, Harry, as I was reading it, snatched it 
with his fat fist, and nearly tore it into fifty atoms, before 
I could rescue it from his fierce gripe. It was well for 

your sake it was not your head, Mr. -. And jou 

have the coolness to say (I read after I had smootl ed 
and put the pieces together as well as I could) — the cool 
effrontery to all married dames to say, that you do not 
think " that my having got married will lessen aught the 
interest of my 'Needles' if I will kindly contribute an- 
other series!" For that speech, in pen and ink, you 
deserve that every married lady should stop your paper. 
Indeed ! My being married has not upset my wits, nor 

quite made a fool of me, Mr. , though if you should 

sometimes chance to overhear me talk to Harry in a 



416 THE SUNNY south; or, 

language which has neither dictionary, grammar, nor 
meaning, you would asseverate that I was for the time 
a little out ! 

But baby-talk is a young mother's privilege. You 
men may growl at the cherubs in monosyllables, but you 
can't talk baby! Harry opens wide and wider his great 
black eyes at all the pretty things I tell him about 
^'horsey eaty corney; cowey moo-moo-mooey ; doggy 
barkey boo-woo-woo ; chick ey crowey doo-dle-doo-oo ; 
turkey (which baby calls 'daggins') gobble, gobble, 
gobble;" and so on, giving extraordinary, and, in my 
own estimation, very respectable and praiseworthy imi- 
tations of the noises of animals, especially the barking 
of Bruno, our huge mastiff; at which I feel assured I am 
very successful, for the deep notes always set my little 
Needle to puckering his woful lips, and ending the imi- 
tation by a genuine bellowing of his own; and the cry of 
a child thirteen months old is no trifling affair, especially 
if mamma is out of sugar- candy. 

In such cases nothing stops the dear little angel of a 
boy but my blowing tremendous blasts upon a tin trumpet, 
on the homoeopathic principle of like curing like; and 
his astonishment at the superiority of my tin trumpet 
performance to that of his own lungs is so great, that he 
pauses, and gives in — fairly beaten. 

These "little Needles knows a heap," as Aunt Chloe, 
his old black nurse, said to me this morning, as Harry 
knocked over a little wooley-crowned black baby, Chloe's 
grandson, which had crawled near him, and began to 
amuse himself by sucking an India rubber tooth-biter. 
*^Mass Harry make little nigga know hi' place!" 

I could not help laughing at the old woman's remark; 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 417 

at the same time could not but feel its truth. The white 
infant on a plantation very early understands, as if by 
instinct, its superiority ; while the African child tacitly 
recognizes it. This African element infused into our 
humanity is a great mystery. • 

Excuse this blot, Mr. ; Harry has pulled at my 

sleeve in trying to walk round my table, and upset my 
inkstand shockingly. And while I shake my finger at 
him, he shakes his wise head from side to side in a 
cunning way, as much as to say, "No — no, you won't 
whip baby!" and then he smiles with enchanting confi- 
dence, looks up into my face with eyes full of love and 
fun, and ends by putting up his little mouth for a kiss ; 
for the rogue is conscious that he has done a great mis- 
chief, which he so often perpetrates in some shape or 
other through the day, as to be quite familiar with my 
reproving exclamation of "Ah! naughty Harry!" 

Dear little fellow ! I would not lay the tip of my finger 
upon his beautiful body, in retribution for all the blots, 
work-baskets turned topsy-turvy, books torn, and all 
his miscellaneous misdoings generally. I would not for 
India's wealth arouse in that dear little heart of his, fear 
of his mother ! There is so little pure affection on this 
earth, let it be found sacred and unmarred between the 
young mother and her heaven-given babe ! 

You should have seen poor little Harry when he was 

christened, Mr. . He was then ten months old, 

and a stout, strong, rosy rogue, with a laughing face 
that seemed to over-run at the bright eyes with the light 

of joy- 

But when the minister took him into his arms, Harry 
looked up into the stranger's grave face with a stare of 
27 



418 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

wonder and a slight inkling of fear ; the first shadow of 
which I ever saw pass across his sunny brow. The deep 
voice of the clergyman in its solemn tones seemed to 
make a strange impression upon the child's sensitive 
nature. All at once he put up his rosy mouth, sweetly 
open like a young robin's, and with a half-timid, half- 
coaxing look, pulled the minister by his bands, and drew 
his face doAvn close to his that he might kiss him ! It 
was beautiful and touching! The dear, half-frightened 
child evidently wanted to conciliate and win his enemy 
over by love ! 

The good man paused in the service, and with a fine 
smile bent down to the little open mouth, and kissed him 
so affectionately, and then patted his cheek so kindly, 
that Harry at once took courage and confidence, clasped 
his little fists together, a smile like heaven lighted up 
his face, and he nestled in the arms of the clergyman 
with a confidence and trustfulness, in singular contrast 
with his doubt and timidity a moment before. 

Oh ! how powerful is love ! It is thus that God would 
have us lift up our lips to Him in prayer, and thus He 
will bend down and bless us, making us happy and at 
peace with the assurance of His tender afi'ection. Harry 
received the cold baptismal rain upon his curly head 
without a change in his smiling face. With ''the cross 
upon his brow," I received my child back from God's 
altar, where I had thus dedicated him ; and like a Crusader 
bearing the cross, I trust he will be to his life's end a 
faithful soldier in the host of the Captain of his salva- 
tion ! 

How can a mother clasp to her heart from week to 
week an uncon^ecrated child, remaining as it was born, 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 419 

unsanctified by the living waters of the church's foun- 
tains? It was the little children Jesus took up in His 
arms ; it was the little children He commanded mothers to 
bring to Him ! Since the christening of my dear Harry 
I love him far more, and I lie down with him in peace, 
knowing that, should he be called from my arms, he was 
first placed by me in the arms of Jesus, in the bosom of 
His church. 

But to your letter, Mr. , desiring me to do you 

the favor to renew my letters, or "Needles," which you 
kindly say "were not only w^ell received, but are yet 
much inquired after!" I am not ungrateful for the kind 
interest my poor epistles have awakened in the hearts 
of many, whom I shall never know in this world. For 
their pleasure, I am ready to begin a new "paper of 
Needles;" but now, that I am married, these dear readers 
must expect that my little Needle, "Harry," will figure 
a good deal in them. 

I am living very retired, with but few subjects of in- 
terest, other than domestic ones. My house is a para- 
dise of love and peace. My husband seems to think 
only of me and Harry — to forget himself for us! In 
my next letter I will describe my home in the Sunny 
South, and, perhaps, I may find subjects enough around 
me to give some interest to my Needles. But I have 

first a word to say, Mr. , before I fairly consent to 

be your correspondent. I do not wish you to alter my 
letters, or, in your masculine dignity, cut out any 
"baby-talk," or baby affairs, that may be in them; for 
my nursery is my world just now, and Harry the most 
important personage in this little world of cradle and 



420 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

painted toys! Perhaps in that greater nursery, the 
WORLD itself, bearded men are quite as much, 

" Pleased with a rattle, and tickled with a straw," 

as Harry in the lesser one. 

Farewell, Mr. , 



Your friend, 

Kate de C. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 421 



LETTER LYII. 



My Dear Mr. : 

How provoking it is to be mistaken for somebody 
else besides one's self! Until a few days ago I was not 
aware that the celebrated Miss Conyngham of England, 
who traveled through Italy and Austria distributing 
tracts, for which she was imprisoned, was thought to be 
me ! I really hoped that my thousand dear friends who 
knew me through my pen, had a better opinion of Kate 
than to suppose she could give herself up to such a 
fanaticism as marked the wild career of the Miss Conyng- 
ham who frightened Austria, and like to have set Eng- 
land and its Emperor by the ears ! 

It is true, our party went to Europe after Isabel's 
marriage, where my husband and I joined her, and we 
were traveling at that time ; but while Miss K. Conyng- 
ham was in prison in Austria, Miss Kate Conyngham as 
a bride, was climbing Ben Nevis in bonnie Scotland, 
leaving none but her own trades (French No. 2's) in the 
heather. This I wish to be distinctly made known ; for 
though I have no objection to be a tract distributor, yet 
I hope I have common sense enough not to court martyr- 
dom as my namesake seems to have had a fancy to do. 

I do not know but that I shall be compelled, Mr. 
, to send you a full account of my travels, to show 



422 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

you I never was arrested by Austrian police, but in all 
my journeyings behaved myself like a nice young wife, 
who has no taste for dungeons, except in Mrs. Radcliifes 
novels, and who has a perfect horror of a diet of dry 
bread and water. If I should send you my travels, I 
should write about the wonders of our voyage : the things 
I saw in England, what I saw in Erance, the adventures 
we met with in Spain; of our sojourn in Florence and 
Naples; our yachting cruise over to Malta, and the 
various escapes and marvelous incidents which gave zest 
and romance to our tour ; and I should be sure and not 
forget to tell all about my marriage, and how I saw and 
spoke with the Queen by an odd accident, with all sorts 
of things besides. 

But as I have promised to give you in this letter a 
description of my dear home in the South, whence I 
write these letters, I will here fulfill my promise, and 
leave my "Tour to Europe" for subsequent "Needles." 

If you will take the map and find New Orleans, you 
will soon learn where I am by following the noble Father \ 
of Waters up as far as Donaldsonville, twenty-five leagues 
north from the city. At this pretty French village, 
which sleeps half buried in the foliage of China shade 
trees and Acacias, is the mouth of the lovely stream 
called Bayou La Fourche. A bayou is not, however, 
exactly a stream, but a sort of natural canal going 
laterally from one piece of water to another, uniting 
both ; as for instance, a stream flowing from the Delaware 
straight across to the Schuylkill, would be a bayou. In this 
part of the world, where the green land is as level as the 
blue sea, these intersecting branches form a net-work of 
internal navigation, as if the whole land were cut up into 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 423 

winding canals. This feature of the country makes it 
very beautiful, as oaks, and elms, and laurels, fringe 
their banks; and in their graceful curves they embrace 
now on one side, and now on the other side, crescent- 
shaped meadows waving with sugar cane, and dotted with 
majestic groves like islands of foliage resting on the 
bosom of the pleasant land. 

For thirty miles in the interior this lovely region is 
level as the sea, and islanded by dark green groves of 
oak, at intervals of a half mile or mile apart. The boat 
passes villas inunmerable, whose gardens touch the water, 
and old French villages half hid in shade, while in the 
distance, for every half league, tower the turreted sugar- 
houses, like so many castles. 

It would require a highly poetical pen to picture justly 
the beauty of such a thirty miles trip into the luxurious 
heart of Louisiana. At length four hours after leaving 
the Mississippi, appear, over the woodlands of a fine 
estate belonging to an eminent judge, the spires of 
Thibodeaux, an old French town, extremely quaint and 
picturesque. Here the steamer stops to land its pass- 
engers, who are mostly French, and will also land you, 
Mr. , if you are on a visit to see me. 

Standing on the Levee, you will see the steamer move 
on again further up the pretty bayou, and still for an 
hour, when ten miles oif, its black pillar of smoking 
cloud can be discerned, ascending along the horizon like 
the jet from a far-off volcano. If the steamer you have 
left continues on her winding course west and south for 
five hours, she will reach the Gulf of Mexico, and so 
passing round the Gulf coast re-enter the Mississippi, at 
its mouth, and so get back to New Orleans, thus com- 



424 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OE, 

passing, by the aid of river, bayou, and gulf, a complete 
circle around the city with a radius of a hundred miles. 
Planters often make use of this mode of communication 
to ship their sugar to schooners anchored at the Gulf 
mouth of the bayou. If the English had been acquainted 
-with this inland water route they would have reached 
New Orleans, surprising it by a descent from up river 
upon it. 

It was to Lafitte they made such magnificent ofi'ers to 
pilot them through such a bayou, that of Barataria; 
which, outlaw as he was, he nobly refused. Parties ou 
excursions from plantations frequently, in their pleasure 
boats, go down to the Gulf and spend a week or two; 
living a sort of wild and romantic gipsey life on the 
green islands that gem the shore of the Gulf. One of 
these parties I recently joined, and may some time give 
you a description of its pleasures and famous adven- 
tures. 

But I will not leave you standing any longer with 
carpet-bag in hand on the Levee of Thibodeauville, Mr. 

, but direct you up the tree-bordered bayou bank to 

another bayou, which comes into the larger one close by 
the chief village street. It is a pleasant walk. You 
will find little French negroes rather troublesome, asking 
^'mass, for tote he saddle-bag;" but you are an old 
traveler, sir, and have escaped alive from the landing 
place at Calais — a dreadful place, and which I shall 
never forget. 

The pretty walk along the water bank will, in five 
minutes, bring you to the bayou, Tekre Bonne. Its 
course is at right angles with the bayou La Fourche. 
Thibodeaux village stands right in the angle between 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 425 

the two, one being in front, the other on the west side. 
When you come to this bayou you will see that it looks 
like a canal, rather than a natural stream. A small 
bridge crosses it, and leaning over its railing you will sec 
gray-headed old Frenchmen fishing, and boys catching 
shrimps in nets. Trees bend over them, the water 
sparkles below, brown Creole laundresses are singing as 
they wash their clothes in the water, and altogether it is 
a pretty scene. Near the bridge you will see four or 
five barges or market-boats, with brown lateen sails, and 
laden with vegetables and fruit. They are manned by 
two or three sable-skinned slaves, usually by an aged, 
gray-headed African and an ivory-toothed urchin. They 
have come that morning some five miles, some fifteen, 
from their master's plantations, to sell marketing, and 
make purchases for home. These boats are constantly 
going up and down this narrow bayou, Terre Bonne, 
for it flows through a rich and populous sugar region of 
the finest sugar estates in the South, and forms their 
only water communication with the villages and towns. 

But you will be likely to see, moored about in the 
shadows of the bridge, one or more pleasure yachts, in 
which some members of the family have come up from 
their plantations, situated where the sky and level hori- 
zon meet. Perhaps one of them brought down a freight 
of lovely girls and their noble dark-eyed mamma, and 
good-looking aunts, to shop among the treasures of dry- 
goods, jew^elry, and millinery, of the fashionable stores 
in Thibodeaux ; or, perhaps, a plantation household of 
merry children are come up to the village to see the cir- 
cus, and especially that wicked, good-for-nothing Dandy 
Jack ride the pony ; the boys of the party going homo 



426 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

again, to turn the lawn into an arena, and all the shaggy 
ponies into circus steeds, compelling some plantation 
native Dan Rice, jr., to be clown." 

Or, perhaps, you will see there the elegant yacht of 

the two rich brothers, M. Louis and M. Adolphe , 

w^ho have come up from their estate, two hours' sail 
down the bayou, to pass an afternoon, playing billiards, 
and to meet the young girls that happen to be in town 
shopping, from the neighboring estates, for on certain 
days (usually Saturday, by general consent), everybody 
goes to town, and anybody that wants to see anybody is 
likely to find everybody on the street. Indeed, for the 
surrounding planters, the village is an ^'Exchange" on 
that day, not only for young fellows and maidens to ex- 
change glances, and, perhaps, hearts, but for their papas 
to get money for their sugar, or see to its shipment, and 
lay in their stores. 

If it should be on Saturday that you arrive, Mr. , 

you would see many a cushioned barge lying in the bayou 
waiting for its fair occupants to return to their homes. 
Also, you would find no lack of handsome carriages and 
caparisoned saddle-horses under the care of servants ; 
for along the bayou winds, at one with it in all its mean- 
derings, a summer road, level as a bowling-alley, bordered 
by woodland oaks, orange groves, country-seats, flower- 
ing gardens, fields of waving cane, bending with a bil- 
lowy motion to the overpassing wind, like the surface 
of an emerald sea. If you wish to reach my home early 
in the day, you had best take the road, for the land 
route will bring you much sooner. But if you are at 
leisure, and enjoy a moonlight sail, you will take one of 
the boats. But as they are all private barges, you will bo 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 427 

SO kind as to step on board that one which you see is 
painted green, with plum-colored cushions and a little 
flag pendant over the stern, on which, when the wind 
blows out its azure folds, you will read " The Isabel." 

That is my yacht, and I know your good taste will 
admire it very much, and thank me very kindly, as you 
suppose, for sending it for you. But I did not send it, 
being ignorant wholly of your visit, Mr. ; never- 
theless, step into it, and tell "Zephyr," which is the 
name of the respectable-looking negro pilot you will see 

in care of it, that you are Mr. ! That name will 

be a talisman ! You will see his eyes shine, and his lips 
open wide, with a quiet laugh of internal satisfaction. 
" Ah, bress my soul ! Missy Kate mity proud to see 
Mass' Editum. I berry grad to hab dat honor miself !" 
and Zephyr will take off his straw hat and make you as 
superb a bow as a king's, nothing less dignified, and he 
will then look around upon the other boatmen with an 
air of triumph, as much as to say, " Go 'way I Here's 
Mass' in dis boat here ! De greatest gemman in Philla- 
mydellfum ! Back you oars, niggas ! you got notin' to 
do in dis bayou !" 

Such would be Zephyr's probable salutation. But he 
will not at once set off with you. He will tell you he 
expects Massa and the ladies, and in a few minutes you 
will see a gentleman and two lovely girls approaching, fol- 
lowed by two servants laden with their purchases. The 
gentleman has a very dark, handsome countenance, lighted 
up by fine hazel eyes. His complexion is a rich, warm 
brown. He wears whiskers, no mustache, but his coal- 
black hair flows long and in very slight curl to his shoul- 
ders. He wears a huge broad-brimmed sombrero, and a 



428 THE SUNNY south; or, 

complete suit of white linen. He has the quiet, self- 
possessed air and gentle bearing of a man of education 
and taste. You will see that he is a "gentleman," and 
YOU will take a liking to him at sight ; he has such a 
frank smile and so handsomely shows his splendid teeth. 

Guess who he is, Mr. ? You would not suppose 

that he was more than seven and twenty, but his intel- 
lectual and thoughtful brow gives the appearance of 
three or four years more. Not to keep you in suspense, 
as he and his beautiful companions are close upon you, 
I will introduce you. 

" My husband, Mr. !" 

I see you look surprised, and bow imperially, with a 
little snip of jealousy, for I know you were never recon- 
ciled to my getting married ! Somehow you editors 
fancy that your lady contributors are betrothed to you, 
(editorially,) and that the Journal is their husbands ! 
Dear me ! what an idea ! 

When Zephyr shouts out your name, my husband, who 
has already known you by reputation, will give you a 
right down hearty and hospitable welcome ; and introduce 
you to his sweet cousins,, who will express their delight 
at seeing you ; and so they will take you prisoner into 
the boat, and you will have one of the most charming 
boat rides you ever enjoyed, for five hours at four miles 
an hour. You will be rowed when the wind lulls, and go 
under sail when there is any stirring. You will wind 
round sugar fields, you will pass between gardens, you 
can talk with the people as they sit on their piazzas, and 
perhaps pacing along the bank road, will be two or three 
cavaliers who ride by the side of the boat as it moves on, 
as they would by a carriage, and chat with you. Night 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 429 

with its stars and silvery moon finds you still moving 
along amid the bosom of the beautiful level land, which, 
in the obscurity, with its groups of great trees, seems like 
a dark sea studded with rounded isles. 

Twenty miles from town you reach another bayou, 
flowing westward. A league farther, mostly among the 
gigantic trees of a Louisiana forest, and your boat comes 
suddenly into an open lake, a mile wide and three miles 
long, a gem of lakes buried in the green heart of this 
lovely land. A few minutes afterwards you land at a 
pier near a garden gate ; and the next moment I grasp 
your hand and welcome you to my home. 

Yours, 
Kate. 



430 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 



LETTER LVIII. 



My Dear Mr. : 

In my last letter I took you, will you nill you, on a 
journey to my forest-emburied home. Landing you 
safely upon the pier, at the gate which enters the lawn 
of live-oaks, that stretches between the house and the 
beautiful expanse of water in front, I gave you a warm 
and hospitable welcome. The same welcome I will joy- 
fully extend to any of your friends, who think enough of 
me to turn out of the way of the great Father of Waters, 
to seek me out amid the heart of this lovely region of the 
South. 

I will describe to you my home, or rather, as you have 
been here, (haven't you ?) I will imagine you writing a 
description of what you saw home to your wife in some 
such sort as follows : 

'' Dear Wife : — This epistle is written at ^ Illewalla,' 
or ' Lover's Lake,' which is the translation of the soft 
Indian name. It is the romantic and charming home of 
my old correspondent, ' Kate, of the Needles.' I cannot, 
with ray prosaic pen, begin to present to your mind's eye 
the peculiar beauty of this retreat. On my way up from 
New Orleans to Louisville, I determined to stop and see 
my fair friend, in her own home ; and having obtained 
the direction, I embarked at New Orleans on board the 
steamer ^Dr. Beattie,' for Thibodeaux. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 431 

"We steamed up the Mississippi to Donaldson ville, 
eighty miles, and thence diverged into a narrow stream, 
called Bayou Lafourche. Along this winding water we 
sailed thirty miles more, through a lovely land of groves, 
sugar-fields, meadows, villas, and villages. At Thibo- 
deaux, I embarked upon another bayou, crossing the level 
country, and two hours after the rising moon, reached 
the abode of Kate, situated picturesquely on the green 
shore of a small Indian lake, that one can row around in 
an hour. The shores are fringed by noble trees, and bor- 
dered by a belt of the purest sand. Silence and beauty 
reign there. One fine feature of this land is, that the 
forests have natural lawns, beneath like the leveled sward 
of an English park. Hence it is pleasant to roam on 
foot or ride through them, and one can gallop all around 
the lake amid the forest trees without checking bridle. 
This lake is fed by a living fountain in its pellucid depths, 
and so clear are its waters, that the trout, pickerel, and 
other angler's finning game, can be seen darting far be- 
neath the surface in glittering lines ; while, in the still- 
ness of the night, their splashing leaps at intervals break 
the starry silence. 

"At length, I approached the house. Vases of large 
size, containing rare West Indian plants, stood on each 
side of the spacious steps, filling the air with delicious 
odors. Crossing the noble piazza, which was broad 
enough for a company of soldiers, fourteen abreast, to 
march round upon it, I, as the chief guest, was ushered 
by ' Kate' into a wide and high hall adorned with exqui- 
site statuary and noble pictures. The drawing-room 
opened into it. This was furnished with light and elegant 
furniture, chiefly of Indian-cane and rosewood. Every- 



432 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

thin<x had that imdenfiable air of taste and comfort, with- 
out garish show, which a poetic mind loves to dwell in. 

"I passed a delightful evening. I felt perfectly at 
home. Col. C, the husband of Kate, seemed to vie with 
her in making me feel so. The library opened from the 
drawing-room, and when I say its walls were wholly con- 
cealed by carved oaken cases, filled from floor to ceiling 
with all the wealth of a real scholar's book-treasures in 
all tongues, you will understand how elegant and tempt- 
ing a place it is. 

"My sleeping apartment opened from this pleasant 
library, and also looked out upon the lawn. So delight- 
fully situated, I could not resist the temptations which en- 
vironed me. Instead of retiring, I lingered till midnight 
in the library, gazing over the rare volumes which then, 
for the first time, met my eye ; and when I resolved to 
go to bed, a glimpse of the lake through my window, 
shimmering in starry brightness, chained me to it for half 
an hour, listening to the leaping fish, the distant notes 
of a mocking bird, or contemplating the calm- beauty of 
the scene. It was past midnight when I sought my pil- 
low, thankful to the Creator of the world that there 
lingered yet on earth many such fragments of our Lost 
Paradise in Eden ; and inwardly determining to find soon 
for myself such a piece of paradise as this one, and under 
my own oaks, dwell at peace, far from the roar of the 
drays of commerce, and the din of town. 

"Your affectionate husband, (and all that.y 

There, Mr. , there is your letter ! — You certainly 

describe pretty well, but permit me to say, that I have 
no objections to your letter, except that you did not say 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 433 

one word about mj hahe! Now if you were a "bachelor, 
I could easily account for this silence ; for it is, to be 
sure, beneath the dignity of old bachelors to allude to 
Buch subjects. But as you are a married man, and have, 
I don't know how many, roguish mouths to kiss and feed, 

your silence is quite shocking. The truth is, Mr. , 

you have never forgiven me for taking a husband ; now I 
can assure you I can write just as well, as when I was a 
spinster, and perhaps a great deal better; for I shall be 
able to draw on my husband's fine mind for ideas when 
my poor brain runs shallow. 

Now that you and my dear thousand friends know 
where I am, and all about my home, I will, for the rest 
of my ^'Needles," say little more about it. I only wish 
you all to know that I am charmingly situated, happy 
as I deserve to be, and only wish that all for whom I take 
such pleasure in writing these letters, were as happy. 
Home is heaven's type. What place this side heaven, 
besides "home," a home of love and confidence, resem- 
bles the Paradise above ? Jesus, to express his desolate- 
ness, said touchingly, "I have not where to lay my 
head!" 

Among the myriads of elegant and happy homes of 
earth, not one was His ! There can be no more eloquent 
expression of human desolation than His sad words con- 
vey. And to throw a sanctity about earth's homes, 
(which were not for Him,) He calls heaven a place of 
"homes." "In my Father's house are many mansions." 
There we shall not be wanderers through the infinite 
spaces of the heavens, but shall have homes, where we 
can gather around us all the loved and lost of earth ! 
Let us, therefore, love our earthly homes, and make 
28 



434 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

them as much like heaven, in love, as we can, that we 
may be better fitted for the heavenly habitations that 
adorn the golden streets of "the city of God." With- 
out love there can bo no true home, without home no 
heaven. 

A home in the country is the loveliest of all earthly 
ones. One is more with nature? One communes with 
the stars, the clouds, the trees, the water, the birds ! 
Man was not made for towns ! Adam and Eve were 
created and placed in a garden. Cities are the results 
of the fall. The first thought of the sinful men after 
the flood was, " Go to ! Let us build us a city !" If men 
had remained in a nomadic state, the race would have 
been far better and happier, that is, if cultivated by 
arts, letters, and religion. Cities are the effects of sin. 
There is no greater truism on record than this, that 
" God made the country, and man made the town." 

When I ride out of a morning, instead of threading 
my way through crowded and noisy streets, I canter 
with joy and freedom along a beautiful lane two miles 
long, with waving fields of sugar-cane on either side, 
and hedges of Cherokee rose bordering the way, and 
shade trees meeting almost over my head, their low and 
far-reaching branches sometimes compelling me to stoop 
to the pummel, as I dart like a deer beneath. Some- 
times, indeed, I have a race with a deer or stag, which, 
caught browsing in the green lane, and seeing me com- 
ing, darts off like an arrow, a challenge which "Buc- 
cleugh," the name of my handsome brown horse, (though 
called "Buck" for short,) never refuses to accept, nor 
his mistress either ; but we are always beaten, of course, 
for the stag seems fairly to fly, and soon loses himself 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 435 

to siglit ill the sliady recesses of his native woodhmd ! 
Some mornings I rise with the crows, (for they are the 
earliest risers of all the winged fowls,) and take a can- 
ter around my Lake, upon the white, hard sand-belt 
that enriches it. It is a three miles' complete ride 
round, and the only sound heard in the stillness is the 
patter of the hoofs of Buck upon the beach. On the 
bosom of the Lake float flotillas of wild swans, fleets 
of black ducks, and the long-legged heron wades far out 
from the shore to catch his morning's breakfast. As I 
advance, I awake all the birds, startle the squirrels, and 
put life into the groves that border the Lake. 

Now is not all this far better than any thing a city 
can give? And then I can ride in what costume I 
please. I can hang my bonnet on the pommel of the 
saddle by the strings and gallop bare-headed ; and, if 
I want to sing and shout, I can do so, as loud as I 
please, and nobody to say a Avord about ^^ propriety" and 
*' becomingness," and all that primness ; nobody but 
Mr. Echo, who always joins in with me, and shouts as 
loud as I ! A merry and social solitary gentleman of 
the forest he is, who never ventures into cities, but keeps 
all his accomplishments for the country ; but then he will 
always have the last word ! 

A favorite termination of my ride is a little mound, 
green and flower-besprent, about half round the Lake 
and close to the water. It is called the grave of 
Norkamah and Anama, two Indian lovers of hostile 
tribes, who, rather than be separated, walked one moon- 
light night, their arms folded about one another, slowly 
out into the Lake, singing as they went, their death- 
song. This was their doom, to which the chiefs con- 



436 THE SUNNY south; or^ 

demned them, unless they would cease to love ! Cease 
to love ! How little those stern warriors knew of the 
hearts of the young ! how little knew what youthful love 

is ! Cease to love ! True love never ceases, Mr. ! 

It is immortal ! As well might these chiefs say to the 
rose-tree, Cease to blossom ! to the full fountain, Cease 
to flow ! to the stars, Cease to shine ! as to the young 
heart, " Cease to love !" 

So they could not cease to love, Norkamah and Ana- 
ma, and with hand clasped in hand, and singing, they 
walked down in the water. Their song ceased only when 
their lips were kissed by the limpid waves that opened 
to make within their deep bosom a grave for love ! 

Hence the Lake is called Illewalla, or Lover's Lake. 
Their spirit-forms are said to hover about the place 
where, on the banks, their bodies are buried in one 
grave, above which the Indian youths and maidens 
erected the green mound that now marks the spot. It 
is said that on the anniversary of the night of their 
death, they are seen coming up out of the water, toge- 
ther, as they went down into it, arrayed in pure white, 
with a star upon each brow, and that they are heard to 
sing not their mournful death-song, but a song that tells 
of never-dying love ! and that all the singing birds take 
up the sweet refrain from every tree, and that the whole 
shore of the Lake is vocal with 

" Love, love, never ceases ! Oh, love never dies V 

A pretty idea, Mr. , and I wish some one of your 

talented poetic correspondents would put the words into 
a song. Very truly yours, 

Kate. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 43T 



LETTER LIX. 



Dear Mr.- 



This evening, about an hour before sundown, I was 
seated in the library, looking over a port-folio of superb 
engravings, which my ever attentive husband had brought 
with him from New Orleans, as a birth-day gift to me ; 
for he is very good to remember every anniversary in 
any way associated with me, or my happiness. One of 
these engravings was a large representation of "The 
Descent from the Cross." While I was sadly contem- 
plating it, and trying to realize that such a scene had 
actually passed on earth, I heard behind me an exclama- 
tion from my old black nurse, "Aunt Winny," "Bress 
de Lor' ! dat am zact image ob de Lor' !" 

I looked round and beheld the eyes of the good old 
African woman fixed steadily and in a sort of adoring 
wonder upon the pale, majestic face of the pictured Sa- 
viour. In her arms struggled little Harry, with hands 
and feet outstretched to get at the picture, for he has a 
great fancy for engravings. 

"Sure, de young Mass' Harry shall see it! Look, 
Missis, how he lobe de Saviour 'ready !" and she held the 
child so near that it put out its little rose-bud mouth and 
kissed the face of Christ ; for the little fellow is full and 
running over with love, and kisses everything that pleases 
him, sometimes his toys and bouquets ; and once, I caught 



438 THE suxNY south; oh, 

liim kissing with great delight his own little, chubby, dim- 
pled arm. 

"De marcy ! Did you see dat, Missy Kate!" ex- 
claimed Aunt Winny, wdth amazement and joy. " Dis 
chil' good nuff to go rite up to Heaben ! who ebber see 
de like?" 

Aunt Winny, with her Nubian-eyed daughter Eda, 
was a present to me from the colonel, Isabel's father, 
wdiom I trust you have not forgotten. Isabel is living 
near Mobile, on the Lake Ponchartrain, in an elegant 
villa, in sight of the sea ; and as I shall soon pay her a 
visit, you will hear from her through my gossiping pen. 
She is a dear, good, old, pious soul, (I mean Aunt Winny,) 
and looked up to by the rest of the servants as a sort of 
saint, en silhouette. 

" Aunt Winny, how came you to say this face in the 
picture is that of the blessed Lord ?" I asked; for I 
knew that there was a devoutly believed tradition in the 
colored part of the family that " she had seen Jesus in a 
vision;" and I presumed lier remark had in some way 
reference to this. 

" Coz, Missy Kate, I hab de fabor of habbin see de 
Lor'," answered Winny, w^ith a solemn air. 

"■ How Avas it. Aunt Winny, and when ?" I asked. 

"Ah, bress de baby ! If he wos on'y quiet one minute, 
and not kick so like a young bear, I'd gib you my 'xpe- 
rience." 

"I would like to hear it of all things," I answ^ered. 
'' Florette shall take Harry down to the Lake to see Nep- 
tune swim." 

So the noisy little fellow was transferred to a pretty, 
little, dark-eyed, Creole maid of fifteen, who speaks only 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 439 

French, and which my husband's mother presented to me ; 
and who acts as a sort of sub-nurse to Aunt Winny, Eda 
being as formerly my tasteful dressing maid. 

" Well, Missy Kate, dc Lor' is good ! I hope to lib 
to see dat Mass' Harry a grand Bishop. He know'd de 
Lor' soon as he seed him on de pictur' ! Sartain de chiF 
did. But den babies is so little while ago come from the 
Lor' up in Heaben, dat dey a'n't had time to forgot him. 
Dat de reason Mass' Harry 'member him and kiss 
him ! " 

'' This was a good reason, no doubt, Aunt Winny," I 
said ; " but now to your experience. While I am finish- 
ing this piece of crochet-work, you tell me your whole 
story." 

The dear, good, old woman, w^hose face is the very 
picture of human kindness, (done on a black ground,) then 
clasped her hands in a pious way and rolled her v»^hite- 
orbed eyes solemnly to the ceiling — a queer expression, 
which little Harry, who imitates everything, has caught 
to perfection, giving it with the drollest precision. She 
then heaved a long sigh and began : — 

" You sees. Missy Kate, I wos com' from ol' Wirginny 
to Tennessee, an' I had a heap o' troubles leavin' my 
folks, an' two childer, an' everybody I know'd way 'hind 
me. So I felt drefful bad-like, and took on miserable 
about it ; an' after we'd got into Tennessee, and moves 
to Big Barren Creek, I cried many a night about it ; 
and went 'bout mazin' sorry-like all day, a wishin I was 
dead and buried !" 

^'Why, Aunt Winny!" 

"Yiss, I did. Missis! I wasn't 'ligious then, and 
didn't know how to take troubles. Well, one day as I 



440 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

was gwine down to de spring in de hollor, I hearn a voice 
right ober my head. It say, 

"'What you do now? You got nobody care for you 
in dis wir country! Whar you get friend but Jesus 
Christ?' 

"Bress de Lor', Missis, it made me look up skeared 
eenamost to nothin', coz there wasn't no tree nor nothin' 
it could come from ober head, on'y de open blue sky." 

"But did you hear a voice?" I asked with a tone ex- 
pressive of my full scepticism. 

"Hear? bress de heart! to be sure, Missy Kate, I did 
hear de voice plain as I heard you speak dis blessed 
minute. It sounded like a silver trumpet speakin' to 
me!" 

"Where did you ever hear a silver trumpet speak?" I 
asked wickedly of the good woman. 

"Nebber, Miss, but den I hear read bout 'em in der 
Bible, and knoivs how I tink dey sound." 

This was emphatically said, and silenced me. 

"This voice I know'd was Master Jesus Christ himself 
talkin'," resumed the old nurse with dignity. "It made 
me feel mighty bad, and I determined from dat minnet 
I'd get deligion! AYell, Missy Kate," continued Aunt 
Winny with a sigh, "I was four long months fightin* 
hard wid de Debbil." 

"What, have you seen that gentleman in black?" I 
asked of my nurse, with a grave face. 

"He any ting but gemman. Missy," answered the 
African lady with a look of indignation; "and he an't 
black, but red as a coal ob fire — gist a fireman all ober. 
Seen him, Missis? I seen him fifty times, and onct I 
had 'mazin' hard fight wid him! He wos use to gib 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 441 

me mortal trouble when I wos trjin' to git dcliglon, but 
vvhensomcbber I seen him comin', I sot to prayin' desput, 
an' he put off wid hesef, for de Debbil can't stan' a 
prayer, no hoivl He get out ob do way rite off." 

"How did he look, Aunt Winny?" I asked. 

" Oh, dear sus ! I couldn't tell ye, Missy Kate, but he 
was drefful ugly beas', an' hab cloven hoof and sebben 
horns, and a switchin' tail. But, bress de goodness ! he 
don't come near me now ! He han't troubled me for good 
many year since I got deligion. He lo%t one, when he 
los' me /" 

This last sentence was enunciated with great unction 
and emphasis ; and accompanied by a look of pious satis- 
faction. 

"Well, Missy Kate," resumed the old nurse, "I wor 
four months tryin' hard to git deligion an' I couldn't." 

"And why. Aunt Winny?" I asked gravely. 

"Because you sees, I wosn't born agen. Nobody can 
git deligion," she added with reverent looks, "till dey is 
born ob de Sperit ! Don't you 'member, Missis, how ol' 
Nicodemus was stumped on dat kwestion? But I didn't 
know bout de Bible den as I does now. Now I can read 
ebbery word ob it." 

''''Head the Bible, Aunt Winny?" I exclaimed with 
surprise, knowing she could not read at all. 

"To be sures I ken. Missis," answered Winny with 
dignity. "I reads it by de eye ob faith. Bress your 
<lear heart, Miss Kate, when we is born'd agen, we can 
read Scriptur' doctrine jis de same wid de eye ob faith 
as white folk can wid de eye ob do flesh if dey isn't 
born'd agen. Didn't de 'postles speak languages dey 
nebber larnt when de Holy Sperit descended 'pon dere 



442 THE SUNNY south; or, 

heads ? Sure dey did, sure. It teach me all de Scrlp- 
tur' doctrm' since I was born de last time ! Well, 
Missis, I didn't know nothin' bout Scriptur' doctrin' in 
dem days, poor ignorum black woman, an' so I prayed 
and kept on prayin', and it didn't do no good, and jiss 
coz I wosn't baptized." 

"And how did you find out you ought to be baptized?" 
I inquired of the good old lady ; and here let me insert 
that I have taken down this conversation actually as it 
occurred ; and that I record it, not with any irreverence 
for such a sacred subject, but to show how religion af- 
fects the mind of the thoughtful slave. Doubtless 
thousands of the poor pious negroes can relate experi- 
ences and spiritual operations almost precisely similar ; 
hence the deep interest Avhich attaches to a fair recital 
of one of them, as in the case of Aunt Winny. Nearly 
all negroes, according to themselves, are converted by 
some great miracle. This is the test of their being re- 
ligious with each other. A conversion without a " mar- 
vel" in it goes for nothing among them. 

"I foun' out in dis way. Missis," answered Aunt 
Winny. "You see I prayed all de time I could git. I 
wos in a wild country, and had no 'lations nor kin of no 
kind dere, and I felt lonely like, and I knew if I could 
get Jesus Christ to love me, he'd be 'lations, an' friends, 
and childer, an' ebbery ting to me. So, one day, as I 
was a-prayin' 'hind a bush, I felt a hand laid rite on de 
top of my head, dis a-way! (here Aunt Winny suited 
the action to the word,) and a voice sed, * Sinner, when 
are you gwine to be baptize?' Dis was nuff! I seed den 
wot I wanted ! So I went rite off and told the preacher 
(his name was Petitt, Miss) how as I wanted to be bap- 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 443 

tize. Well, de branch was up wid a obcrflow, and he 
couldn't do it den; an' when de branch got low he was 
took sick, and so it was three week afore I could get 
baptize. But oh, I saw Jesus an' de angels in dem free 
weeks!" she added clasping her hands in a sort of devo- 
tional ecstasy. 

"How was that, Aunt Winnj?" I asked, laying 
down the crochet-work I was upon, and looking her 
with some surprise, full in the face. 

"I was comin' home from a neighbor's whar I'd been 
on a narran'. All at onct I seed de hebben open — " 

"Over your head?" 

"No, Missis, not 'zactly ober my head, but in de east 
like — right ober in de cast quarter; an' dere I see Jesus 
Christ standin' up in hebben, wid he arms stretched out, 
dis a-way," (here she suited the action to the word,) 
"and smiling on millions ob thousand ob angels, dat 
were lookin' so happy, an' smilin', and praisin' God; 
you nebber see any ting so b'u'ful. Missis! an' I see de 
line oh marh, straight as a clo'se line, drawn across ober 
de hebben to separate de bad folk from de good people 
ob de Lord." 

"Then you saw had folks in heaven, Aunt Winny ?" 

"No, Missis, not in hebben, but kind o' one side like 
— on de lef han', an' de line keep 'em back ! Oh, no, I 
seed no had folks dar, dey couldn't come dar at all! dey 
couldn't get ober dat line ! De Lor' an' de angels wos 
all clothe in clouds." 

"In clouds. Aunt Winny?" 

"Yes, Missis; in de brightest clouds ebber was! 
Ebbery one ob dem hab a star shining on he forehead, 
and a splendimos' cloud, like de rainbow, floatin' 'bout 



444 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

der bodies like de robe ob righteousness. Ah, Missis, it 
wos de handsomest site ebber any body see!" 

" Did you see any black folks in heaven among the 
angels?" 

"Plenty, Missis," answered Winny, with emphasis. 
"But dey wasn't black dere^ — not one ob 'em, but white 
as de angels, an' der faces shine like Moses' face, an' 
dey hab shinin' clouds 'bout 'em too ! I expec' to be derc 
one ob dese days, bless God ! Black ? no, no ! No black 
skin dere — all white as de light!" 

"And have you seen heaven since then. Aunt 
Winny?" 

" Oh, dear sus ! Whenebber I feels happy, I can see 
hebben any time. Eye ob faith see any ting ! Don't I 
know my Saviour? I seen Him too often not to know 
Him as quick as I knows you. Missy Kate. An' now I 
tell you 'bout my baptism ! Soon as I was put under 
water I seed hebben agen, an' hear de angels shoutin' 
ober head, ^ Glory!' an' soon as I wos lifted out again, de 
Sperit lit rite on my shoulder, like a little bird, an' 
whispered in my ear dese words, and I hearn 'em as 
plain as I hearn you speak jus now ; he say — 

"'De whom I am well pleasen !' " 

"Said what?" I asked, with amazement, and not 
fully comprehending the first word. 

"'De whom I am well pleasen,' he said to me," an- 
swered Winny, with marked decision. "Well, I know'd 
den I was born agen ! I felt happy as I could live ! I 
went home a-shoutin' 'Glory an' amen!' an' I seemed to 
hear all de birds in de woods singing ' glory' too ! De 
next mornin', when I got up afore day, to go into de 
field, I saw a light fill de cabin, an' when I look, I see 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 445 

it sliinin' out of mj hand. When I look, I see writ in- 
side ob it on de palm de name dat no one can read but 
dem as is born agen, an' dej has it writ on dere palms 
an' on dere hearts." 

*'You must be mistaken, Aunt Winny, about seeing 
this writing," I said, with manifest incredulity. 

"No, I wosn't, Missis! I seed it plain as eber I seed 
de writin' you make wid you pen at dat writin' desk, 
ony dis wos gold writin'. When I shet my hand it was 
dark in de room; when I open de palm, it was bright as 
moonliorht." 

" Could you read the writing. Aunt Winny ?" 
" Yes, sure and plain enough, by de eye ob faith, an' 
soon as I'd read, it just faded out, and went up my arm 
an' into my heart, and dere it was 'graven on my heart, 
and dere it is now, an' Jesus Christ will read it dere at 
de last day, and know who am his !" 
"But what was the writing, Winny?" 
" Dat can't be read nor know'd but by faith. It's 
writ on my heart— dat's all /want. Missis," answered 
the old black lady, (for a lady Winny is, as well as a 
pious good soul,) with a solemn air, and an expression 
of inward hope and faith. 

Some further questions and answers of no particular 
moment terminated our conversation, and Aunt Winny, 
making me a low courtesy for my kindness in listening 
to her, left to look after Harry. 

This whole "confession" was so extraordinary— it 
came so unexpectedly, from such a staid, quiet old body 
as Aunt Winny— it was such a complete and continuous 
history of religious experience in an uncultivated mind- 
it gives such an insight into the alleged modm operandi 



446 THE SUNNY south; or, 

of conversion among our African population — it pre- 
sents, altogether, such a history of mingled truth and 
error, faith and superstition, that I could not resist pen- 
ning it down at once for your perusal and reflection. 

It was told, too, in the most serious and earnest man- 
ner, with such sincerity of look and tone of voice, and 
such absence of fanaticism or excitement in telling it, 
that I could not but respect her "faith;" and I have 
more than once asked myself, "May it not be possible 
that God has "hid these things from the wise," and 
''revealed them unto babes?" 

The whole " experience" furnishes subject for profound 
and serious meditation. There can be no doubt of Aunt 
Winny's piety. She is a good Christian woman in all 
her daily walk and conversation. She would not wil- 
fully speak an untruth. She is not given to " high- 
flights ;" but, on the contrary, is usually staid and sober- 
minded. How do we know that God does not vouchsafe 
special and peculiar revelations to the ignorant, who 
cannot read His word? May He not, to the poor Afri- 
can, who otherwise cannot know Him, reveal what to the 
wiser is concealed? for the wiser may have access directly 
to God's word. 

These ideas shape themselves into questions under 
my pen, and questions they must ever here remain ; for, 
in this world, they will find no answers. Not knowing 
all the "secrets of God," we ought not to despise one 
of these "little ones," who believe in Him, and "whose 
angels always behold the face of the Father." 

The assertion that negroes are highly imaginative, 
and that all negroes have similar notions, does not les- 
sen the impression which such an " experience" as the 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 447 

above makes upon the mind ; but, on the contrary, serves 
to render it more striking. The universal experience, 
from their own confession, that they have such revela- 
tions, would lead irresistibly to the conclusion that they 
do have them. 

I now hear you, Mr. , putting the question point- 
direct — 

" Do you, Lady of the Needles, believe Aunt Winny 
saw all and heard all she says that she did?" 

Now, my answer to this very inquisitive interrogatory 
from you, whereby you desire to commit me, you will 
please find in Proverbs, xxix. 11. 

Yours respectfully, 

Kate. 



448 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 



LETTER LX. 



Dear Mr. 



I HAVE been down to the great city since I last 
wrote you. Leaving my quiet Lake home early in the 
morning, on IMonclay last, we reached Thibodeaux village 
in time to take the steamer down the La Fourche, which 
brought us in sight of the city just at twilight. It was 
a superb and bewildering spectacle, as we steamed in the 
gathering darkness past a thousand lights from ships, 
and streets, and buildings, and the roar of the city came 
off to my ears across the water, like the sound of the 
surge of old Ocean. 

For a country lady, like myself, the bustle of the city 
completely confounded my poor head when, the next day, 
I walked about shopping, for I had not been beyond the 
noise of the woodpecker for twenty months. What sur- 
prised my rustic head was first the new fashions. I saw 
the ladies not only did not wear their bonnets still on 
their heads, but on their shoulders, and that the style of 
walking was to lift the skirts and display an extraordi- 
nary surface to the eyes of passers-by of intensely white 
petticoat ! At first, I thought it was accidental in the 
fair promenader to escape a pond of tobacco saliva on 
the walk, and I was only assured of its being "the 
fashion" by a remark from Chloe, my waiting woman, 
who was walking behind me, dressed in a neat black silk, 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 449 

and a crimson Iiandkercliief tied turban-wise upon her 
head, the usual head-dress of the colored aristocracy. 

'' Do see. Missus ! Did ebber know de like ?" 

"What is it, Chloe?" 

"All de ladieses holds up de dress mighty high, I tink 
it fashum. Missy Kate !" 

Its prevalence convinced me that Chloe. was right. In 
half an hour more, what should I see but old Chloe step- 
ping along with her skirt in her hand, looking as fashion- 
able as any of them? Imitation is one of the most 
remarkable features of the negro race. They originate 
nothing, imitation is nature in them and irresistible. 
How absurd are fashions ! How they can destroy deli- 
cacy, and even modesty ! At the house of M. de S , 

where I passed the evening of the day, I saw two young 
ladies, who wore their dresses so low in front as to make 
me blush for them, who, a year ago, would have blushed 
and felt deeply mortified and ashamed to have been 
caught by a gentleman in this nude dishabille ; yet now 
they were smiling, and talking, and seemingly as uncon- 
scious of immodesty, as if they were not compelling the 
venerable Roman Catholic Bishop, whom they were talk- 
ing with, to drop his eyes to the floor.* 

American girls are, I believe, purer and more maidenly 
delicate than those of any other nation. I pray that 

* [Having seen, perhaps, considerably more of the world 
than our much esteemed correspondent, "Dear Kate" must 
excuse us if we differ from her in the assumed and sweep- 
ing conclusions at which she arrives, and also as to the utility 
of printing all her conclusions in reference to the doubtless in- 
nocent votaries of that very changeable, and, to say the least, 
oftimes most imprudent goddess, Fashion. — EJ. A. C] 
29 



450 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

they may continue to merit this distinction. But so long 
as they slavishly copy the fashions set by corrupt courts 
— by ladies in France and England — and outwardly wear 
the livery of vice, they will forfeit a pre-eminence that 
they have hitherto enjoyed. These fashions are usually 
started by women who have no character ; indeed, the 
style of the fasJiion shows how impure the mind was that 
originated it. If gentlemen see ladies following such 
fashions, they have a right to suppose that they are no 
better in heart than in dress ; and have characters of the 
same value with the inventors of these immodest and un- 
lady-like fashions. Upon my word, I have no patience 
with my fair countrywomen, when they let milliners and 
mantua-makers lead them by the chin at their pleasure. 
If the Amazonian custom of dropping the dress from the 
left shoulder entirely to the waist w^ere introduced, I fear 
that there would be found foolish girls enough to adopt 
it, throwing delicacy overboard, for the sake of fashion, 
as they now do in their immodestly low dresses. 

And then the way the bonnets have been, and are still 
worn ! hanging almost down the back ! What should we 
think of a gentleman wearing his hat in such a style ? 
But the girls say : " There are no other sorts of bonnets 
made, or to be had at the milliners' !" 

Without doubt they speak the truth. But what right 
have milliners to compel the wearing of such bonnets 
that worit stay on the head? American ladies put 
themselves too submissively into the hands of these Mes- 
dames de la Mode ! The only way to destroy their 
bondage, and have liberty and independence, is for the 
real haut ton ladies to form a " Club of Fashions," — an 
Academic des Modes — choose a President and twenty-four 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 451 

directors, and appoint committees on the fashions as they 
come out, and alter, and add, or take away, as their taste 
dictates, before it receives their seal and signature ! 
They also should have the privilege of originating fa- 
shions. As we are politically independent of Europe, 
let us be so in fashions. Let this "Club of Fashions" be 
established in the principal cities, with intei'-communica- 
tion continually kept up by interchanging " reports ;" 
let it meet four times a year to decide upon the fashions 
for each season, both of hats and of dresses, for Winter, 
Spring, Summer, and Autumn. Let them issue a Ga- 
zette of fashions, to be published quarterly ; and let the 
American ladies yield graceful submission to this Ameri- 
can Congress of Modes, and so emancipate themselves 
from the corrupt fashions which great ladies, of doubtful 
position, in Europe, and milliners of uncultivated taste, 
force upon the good sense and pure taste of American 
women. Such a club would give a tone to fashion that 
it is sadly in want of; and if fashions must rule, let them 
rule with authority, dignity, and grace, in the hands of 
our lovely, and modest, and tasteful American dames. 

I wish you, my dear Mr. , to advocate this mea- 
sure with all your talent and skill. I fear you will think 
this Needle is rather more keenly pointed than usual ; 
but go into a ball-room and see if it is not merited — that 
is, if you are not too modest to see. 

There is something very amusing in the universality 
which an absurd fashion speedily attains. On the first 
day of May, 1854, ladies appeared on Broadway with 
their bonnets resting on their necks. Three weeks 
afterwards girls rejoiced in hanging bonnets by their 
combs in Portland, Maine, and in New Orleans, and in 



152 THE SUNNY SOUTH: OR, 

St. Louis; and in two months more the girls of San 
Francisco bared the tops of their heads to the sun and 
rain ; and by this time this ridiculous fashion is in vogue 
at the Sandwich Islands ! Twenty years ago there were, 
in New Orleans, (so an elderly gentlem.an tells me,) more 
veils seen in the streets than bonnets ; and even now one 
sees this graceful ornament of the head without the 
bonnet. Why not drop the bonnet altogether, since it 
it is of so little use, and wear the veil a la Espanola ? 
Ladies would lose nothing and gain every thing in grace 
and elegance. 

Our object in going to the city was to lay in stores 
and clothing for the plantation, and for my husband to 
dispose of his sugar, and also to purchase a few luxuries, 
among which was a rocking horse for Harry, and other 
playthings. We did not forget all the late publications, 
some of which I will give you my unasked opinion of, 
when I have read them. 

We are preparing for our pic-nic to the Gulf, to be gone 
ten days. The party will consist of eleven of us, not 
including servants. We start the day after to-morrow. 
The young gentlemen who are to join us are busy in 
preparing their guns and fishing apparatus. Champagne, 
and fruits, and delicacies of all sorts, have been ordered 
for the occasion; and we anticipate a merry and ad- 
venturous time. In my next, I will give you an account 
of our expedition in full. It will be a sort of campaign ; 
as we go provided with tents and every convenience for 
campaigning out upon the island which we intend to 
visit. 

Your friend, 

Kate. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT nOME. 453 



LETTER LXI. 

My Dear Mr. : 

I have opened mj writing-desk and taken a nice 
new pen to give a full description of our excursion to the 
Gulf. As Harry is in bed fast asleep, and "dreaming 
about the angels," as Aunt Winnj says all babies do, I 
shall be able to write you an hour without interruption. 

It was a busy time with us all, for a day or two before 
we were ready to start. The gentlemen had to get their 
fishing lines, dip nets, guns, and rough-weather coats, 
and hats ready, and we ladies to fit ourselves with plain 
substantial dresses, chip hats, stout shoes, and all things 
needful for a campaign so formidable ; but the gentlemen 
were most concerned that we should have plenty of good 
things to eat, of which department I was unanimously 
appointed commissary. 

Early on Monday morning, two weeks ago, we were 
roused at day-dawn by the pre-concerted signal — a gun 
fired off by Scipio Africanus, my husband's chief boatman. 
We were soon alert, and the whole house was activity and 
bustle. 

"Kate, don't forget the marmalade; and are you sure 
you put up the guava jelly ? and did Dick pack the basket 
of wines?" 

These inquiries were made by my lord and husband, 



151 THE SUNNY south; or, 

who, as you may judge, is something of an epicure, in 
his way. 

"Aunt Winny — don't forget the baby!" I screamed, 
seeing her leaving the house without Harry. 

"Lor, bless us. Missus, Mass' Harry done gone down 
to de boat on de Doctor back!" 

"All well aboard," cried my husband as he handed 
me in last; for I had delayed to give my orders to old 
Chloe, my housekeeper and factotum, and to tell her that 
if any of our friends came while we were absent, to en- 
tertain them with the best the house held, and try and 
keep them till we returned; and in order that she might 
carry out this hospitality, I left her in possession of all 
my keys. 

It was fairly sunrise when we were safely on board the 
yacht and away from the shore. And a lovely morning 
it was. The eastern sky looked like a broad lake of gold 
and green, stretching away into heaven and decked with 
purple islets of clouds. Not a breath moved the serene 
air or disturbed the placid surface of the water, over 
which we glided to the music of the rippling keel and 
dripping oars of two of our slaves, whose red Saracenic 
turbans, blue shirts, and white full trowsers, gave them, 
with their dark faces, a picturesque appearance. And 
for that matter, we were all picturesque-looking enough, 
to please the fancy of any romantic school-girl. Our 
barge itself was a long, graceful, xebec-modeled craft of 
three tons burthen, a tall tapering mast of the light 
brown tint of amber, terminating, twenty feet from the 
deck, in a white top-mast, crowned with a gilt arrow. 
To a very long pliant yard slung across it, was suspended 
a broad latteen sail, the shape of a swallow's wing. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 455 

Never was a more bird-like looking boat, and when it 
•was racing before a wave-capping wind across the lake, 
it looked like a swift albatross winging his way to his 
covert, amid the dark shades of the forest beyond the 
mere. 

In the after part of the boat is a deck that covers an 
Apartment which sailors call a cabin, or cuddy, large 
enough to hold six persons; if they are very fleshy they 
will be somewhat pinched for space, and if very tall, 
they will have to stoop as they sit down. On each side 
are two berths, and a table in the centre. The whole 
place is beautifully finished off with rosewood and gilding, 
rich blue drapery conceals the sleeping places, and a 
Turkish carpet and lounges add to its comfort. It is a 
lady's boudoir afloat. Last, not least, it contains a little 
cupboard, which holds a complete dining set for six, and 
tea sets to match. The forward part of the xebec has a 
covered forecastle for the steersman, two oarsmen, and 
steward. The length of the whole vessel is thirty-two 
feet. In the space between the forecastle and cabin, are 
seats cushioned, where we sit by day, as we sail along ; 
and if the sun is hot, an awning is drawn over our heads, 
"but not so low as to prevent us from seeing the scenery 
on both sides of the boat. 

As for our party, it consisted of my husband ; two fair 
Louisiana belles, his cousins, of whom I have before 
spoken, who are on a visit to us from their father's sugar 
estate, near New Orleans; and young Dr. Louis de 

r , who has just returned from Europe, and lives on 

the next plantation to ours, and who is very much in 
love with Mathilde, the eldest cousin, a splendid dark- 
eyed queen of a girl, who loves him back ?gain with all 



456 THE SUNNY south; or, 

her warm and generous heart, and what can a lover ask 

more, Mr. ? I make the fifth member of our 

party, and lastly, and the most important personage of 
all, is Master Harry, my baby. Then there is good 
old Aunt Winny, whose ''experience" I sent you, for I 
cannot stir without her, as she is Harry's ambulance, 
and there is Petit Pierre, a slight, golden-skinned, girl- 
ish looking lad, who is my page in general, and also 
waits on table, draws corks for the gentlemen, baits our 
hooks, and amuses Harry; a miscellaneous useful little 
fellow, with a smile full of sweetness, and eyes superbly 
large and expressive, like the eyes of a gazelle. His 
proper appellation is Pierre, but he is so slight and under 
sized, that every one calls him "Petit" also, to which 
name he usually answers. 

Now let me sketch you our party, as we move along in 
the morning sunshine across the blue lake, towards the 
narrow, tree-shadowed outlet of the bayou, into which 
we are soon to enter. 

At the helm stands the steersman. Uncle Ned, a tall, 
grave, pious black man, whose true name is Sambo. 
His visage is jet black, honest and sensible in its expres- 
sion, and withal humble and deferential. He would lay 
down his life for his master, who I believe would as readily 
lay down his life for him. When my husband was a child, 
Sambo, then a half-broke plantation urchin, carried him 
in his arms, and became his out-door nurse. They grew 
up together, and when the child became a man, and the 
boy-nurse a servant in his family, the attachment, which 
they naturally manifested, was beautiful. At present 
Uncle Ned has the responsibility of the whole party, and 
his grave face shows that he feels it. His whole heart 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 457 

is upon Ills duty. His head is surmounted hy a broad- 
brimmed -white hat, with a streamer of black crape far 
pendant behind; for Uncle Ned has recently lost his help- 
meet, Dinah, and shows the depth of his grief by the 
length of his mourning weed; for your true African re- 
joices in a craped beaver; and I verily believe the grief 
at the loss of their kindred is compensated, in a measure, 
by the idea of "the black craped hat." Uncle Ned has 
gray, military cut w^hiskers, and a white cravat closely 
tied about his neck. 

Genteel negroes like Uncle Ned affect "white ties." 
He wore a black coat and white vest, and snuff-brown 
linsey-wolsey trowsers, and looked the character he was 
on the plantation of a Sunday, "a colored clergyman." 
Yet he was a good coachman, a better boatm.an, as well 
as a true gentleman, at heart and in sentiment. Old 
Ned's onl}^ dissipation was his pipe. This he never was 
without, out of doors, if " de ladies would let him smoke 
de pipe in dere presence." 

The two girls, Mathilde and Marie, were dressed in 
closely-fitting spencers, which set off their superb figures 
splendidly, and made the elder, who is just nineteen, 
look like a Southern Di Vernon; and her dark tresses, 
stealing out beneath her wide straw hat, laughed in the 
winds. Marie was a fair blonde, with an eye of blue, 
like rich turquoise set in pearl, or to use a soft and ten- 
der simile, "like a violet cupped in a hly." The elder 
was Juno, the younger Euphrosyne. One captured 
hearts by the lightning of her glorious sunrise-looking 
eyes: the latter won them with gentle influences, as the 
moon attracts towards itself the beauteous lake, that re- 
flects its image. The two lovely sisters, in their flapping 



458 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

Panama hats, and gray pic-nic habits, and jaunty, half- 
gipsy air, looked romantic enough for Mr. Alexander 
Smith; who is the moon's own bard, and who, had there 
been no moon, no poet had been. 

The handsome Louis, who stands amidships, pointing 
out to Marie a flight of birds, is dressed like a buccaneer, 
and I believe intended to be Mr. Lafitte for the present 
expedition only, inasmuch as we were bound to the neigh- 
borhood of this celebrated sea-king's island of Bara- 
taria; nay, we expected to pay it a visit in our absence. 
Louis has a fine face, but its beauty all comes from his 
heart, which is one of the noblest, and kindest, and man- 
liest that ever beat. His features are not regularly 
formed, and his forehead is too low, but when one knows 
him w^ell, and knows what a pure soul he possesses, what 
superior intellect, and commanding talent, one loves and 
honors him without any reservations. 

Then, there stands my husband ! Of course he is not 
to be paralleled or compared. He may be ugly ; but if 
he is, I don't know it, for my love throws a golden veil 
over every defect, and illumines every feature with the 
light of beauty, not beauty such as woman has, but the 
beauty of a man — who stands out commandingly the 
image of his Maker. 

I say that my husband, Mr. , may be ugly, but 

to me he is perfect. His hazel eyes beam on me only 
with love and pride, and husbandly tenderness ; his 
mouth speaks to me only the kindest and most pleasur- 
able things, his voice, when he turns to address me, 
changes its tone from that he gives to others, and falls 
upon my ear like some mysterious music, that thrills 
and moves the heart, the dear listener knows not how or 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 459 

"why. The voice may be harsh, the mouth unhandsome, 
the lips without regularity, the eyes without beauty, but 
to me they challenge comparison with the eyes, lips, and 
voice of Apollo, or any admirable Crichton of them all. 

There ! my heart's confession is made, Mr. ! 

You see I am not ashamed of my good husband, and I 
don't intend to be; on the contrary, I mean all my 
readers shall think of (I was going to say love) him as 
well as I do. As to loving him (I mean the fair girls 
who read this), I would simply hint that I have a mono- 
poly in him, and don't intend any body shall love him, 
or look at him even sidewise, but me. Even the superb 
Mathilde, cousin as she is, sometimes makes me feel like 
pulling her ears, when I have seen her look as if she 
loved him more than a cousin ought to love a cousin ! 
Harry I will not describe — he couldn't he described ! 
Imagine a perfect Cupid, (I mean, of course, sir, with a 
pretty plaid frock on, tiny gaiter boots on his charming 
feet, a Scotch cap and feather set aside on his curly 
head, black eyes full of fun, rosy cheeks, chubby arms, 
chubby hands, chubby bare legs, and lips like the rosy 
lining of twin sea-shells,) and you have "" Mass' Harry," 
and with him the whole " ship's company." 

We moved delightfully along the shores of the tree- 
fringed lake for a half mile, when visible right ahead, 
was the opening of the bayou, for which we were steer- 
ing. We soon entered, all at once, losing sight of the 
sun-bright lake of my villa-home. The bayou was about 
as wide as Chestnut street, with just room for meeting 
boats to pass. For the first mile we moved on beneath 
mammoth trunks of old live-oak trees, that threw their 
gnarled arms far across from side to side. Wild vines. 



460 THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR, 

gaj witli strange and beautiful flowers, grew close to the 
water, and winding their serpent-like folds about the 
trees, climbed up and along the branches, and formed a 
thousand festoons from bank to bank, beneath which we 
glided, and using them to propel us onward, instead of 
the oars, we darted swiftly beneath, leaving far astern a 
wake of gurgling waves, agitated by our keel. A deer, 
startled bj our shouts of laughter, (for people in the 
woods somehow are always more noisy than when at 
home,) plunged into the stream, and after a dozen of 
vigorous strokes with his hoofs, dashing the water high 
above his antlers as he swam, landed on the wild-wood 
side of the bayou. Louis raised his rifle with a true 
hunter's instinct. Mathilde, with a " No, Louis, don't ! 
Let the poor fellow live and enjoy the freedom of his 
forest home, gently laid her hand upon the gun and dis- 
armed liim. 

"It is your deer. Mademoiselle Mathilde," he said, 
gallantly," "and when I return I will ensnare him and 
present him to you alive." 

At this moment, we emerged from the entangled forest, 
and on each side extended the level sugar fields a mile 
broad, waving like the "green and laughing corn," or 
rather looking like an undulating emeraldine sea. In 
the distance ahead, rose the lofty towers of the sugar- 
house, or " sucrdrie," and amid a grove of tropical shade 
trees, half a mile to the right, were visible the roof and 
cupola of the mansion, where we were to receive an ac- 
cession of two more boats to our party. 

In an hour after leaving the lake, we reached this 
luxurious abode of refinement and wealth, were welcomed 
by a happy group upon the green bank, and escorted 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 461 

with great triumph and rejoicing to the house where 
breakfast was waiting for us ; for it was in carte of the 
daj that we were to dejeuner here. By nine o'clock avo 
were once more on board, and with the addition of two 
more ladies and three gentlemen, we voyaged a-down the 
bayou, a merry fleet, steering the whole forenoon amid 
sugar fields that kissed the wave, or past villas where we 
were cheered by groups of friends, who followed us as 
far as they could be heard, with " Bon voyage, bon voy- 
age, au rcvoir !" while little Harry, held high in air, by 
proud Aunt Winny, would prettily smack his fat hands 
and toss an imaginary kiss, (an accomplishment which 
his father had taught the little rogue,) back to the joy- 
ous throng. The remainder of my narrative, I will de- 
fer, Mr. , for another letter. Until then, adieu. 

Yours respectfully, 

Kate. 



462 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 



LETTER LXII. 



My Dear Mr. 



You know when one sits down, pen in hand, and with 
kindly feelings, to write about what one has seen, and 
wishes one's readers to see with the same eyes, that the 
subject grows, enlarges, expands under the ready pen, 
until what was meant for a letter only, becomes a book. 
So, under my pen, enlarges my narrative of our excur- 
sion, which I expected to stitch up for you with one nee- 
dle full of thread, but which I see will take two, and 
perhaps three of them. A lady with a talkative pen is 
quite as much a horror, I confess, as one with a talkative 
tongue. 

My last Needle left our little fleet of pleasure-barges 
winding our pleasant way down the bayou Terre Bonne, 
southwardly, towards the pretty village of Thibodeaux, 
which please turn to your map and find in the bosom of 
the delightful sugar region of Louisiana. It was a bright 
autumnal day, and we all gave full rein to our wild 
spirits, awaking the echoes of the groves, past which we 
sailed, and causing the groups of slaves in the fields to 
pause, leaning on their long-handled hoes, and gaze upon 
us with shining eyes and glittering teeth ; while Uncle 
Ned at the helm drew himself up in the presence of these 
''colored folk," with all the dignity which his responsi- 
bility as helmsman of our yacht entitled him to assume 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. ^ 463 

before barbarian ^' field niggers," as the aristocratic 
house-servant terms the cultivators of the soil. 

At noon, we reached the estate of a friend ; where we 
landed and dined beneath the trees on the bank ; the 
hospitable family, seeing we would not go in, added all 
sorts of luxuries, which half-a-dozen slaves brought out 
to us upon Avaiters. It was sunset when we reached the 
outlet of the bayou at the village of Thibodeaux ; but as 
the moon rose full and glorious before darkness could 
begin to draw its starry veil over the sky, we resolved 
to continue on our way and bivouac for the night at the 

plantation of M. M , a relative of my husband's, who 

had been notified of our coming down upon him "in 
force." So we left the narrow bayou, passing beneath 
the old French bridge that crossed it at its mouth, near 
the end of the village street, and pulled out into the 
broader and deeper current of the Bayou Lafourche, on 
which the village stands. There was a soft haze settled 
over the town, above which the spires caught the moon- 
beams like minarets of silver. 

When our whole fleet had got out into the broader 
waters of Lafourche, there was a council of war held by 
the gentlemen of the several boats, and it resulted in my 
husband being chosen Admiral of the Fleet; and our 
boat was therefore made the flag-ship, out of compliment 
to me, a grace at their hands, which I here publicly ac- 
knowledge. We, therefore took the lead, and the other 
four boats followed joyously astern ; for besides the two 
yachts which joined us en voyage, we had two " trans- 
ports," boats containing our tents, nets, fishing-poles, 
guns, provisions, and dogs, and every possible extra, 
that a campaign of ten days might require. 



464 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

As tlic town, with its sparkling winlow-liglxts, and 
with here and there the distant music of a skillfully 
thrummed guitar, receded, we drew near the Catholic 
church, about half-a-mile below the village. Its bell was 
heavily tolling across the water, and we saw a procession 
coming forth with torchlights ; and winding its way be- 
neath the trees towards the cemetery. The solemn 
chanting of the service of the dead reached our ears when 
we had gone far down the bayou, and, what with the 
hour and associations, it all deeply impressed us. \Ye 
learned, on our return, that it was the funeral of a young 
nun who had died the week previous, at the Convent du 
Sacre Coeur, and her body having arrived late at her 
former home, had been the same night conveyed beneath 
the pure moonbeams to its last resting place by the 
church in which she had, as an infant, received holy bap- 
tism. 

There is something, to my imagination, extremely at- 
tractive in the aesthetics of the Roman Catholic religion ; 
but not to my reason nor to my heart. I could never 
bend my knee to the "Virgin Mother," nor use words 
of prayer to the "holy saints" asking their intercession, 
while there stands in my Protestant Bible these words : 
" There is one intercessor between God and man — the 
man Christ Jesus." Theirs is a romantic, imaginative. 
and touchingly superstitious faith, and is only received 
fully by an imaginative people. 

Americans can never be Romanized. They are too 
practical — too wmmaginative, too little disposed to de- 
votion at all, to commit themselves voluntarily to a faith 
that is ever genuflecting, ever going through the ex- 
ternals of worship. A people who find it hard to ac- 



THE SOUTTIERNER AT ITOMK. 465 

knowledge and pray to one God will liardly pray to a 
thousand. 

So the Pope and his council have decreed that the 
mother of Jesus was a Divine Person, and therefore deny 
that she is a woman! What a monstrous doctrine! and 
it is decreed, too, by the papal "bull," that it is heresy 
to deny it. Do you not remember a place in the First 
Epistle of John, chapter fourth, second and third verses ; 
also the Second Epistle of John, seventh verse, which 
says, "For many deceivers are entered into the world, 
who confess not that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh. 
This is a deceiver and Antichrist?" Now, if Jesus' 
mother was a divine and sinless being, she was not a 
"woman." But the prophecy was that Christ should be 
the seed of the woman — born of a woman. If Mary was 
not a woman, (but a sort of divine goddess as the Papal 
decree makes her,) then Jesus was not born of woman; 
and hence he is not the Christ; as he was not that ''man 
Christ Jesus" foretold; for he could only be man by 
being born of a woman. The establishing, therefore, the 
divinity of Mary, destroys the manhood of Jesus, and 
ignores his having "come in the flesh." But this is a 
question for theologians, yet it is one that every Chris- 
tian may freely discuss. 

Our voyage down the bayou under the splendor of the 
gorgeous southern moon was delightful. Every half 
mile we glided past a villa either on one hand or 
the other. At one place we were serenaded, in passing, 
by a party in a garden, who sang superbly and with fine 
effect : — 

** The bonny boat with yielding sway 
Rocks lightly on the tide," &c. 
30 



466 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

The gentlemen and ladies of our party responded by 
singing in full chorus the Canadian boat song : — 

" Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast, 
The rapids are near, the daylight's past/' 

About nine o'clock we came in sight of the plantation 

of M. M J my husband's relative. We saw lights 

moving upon the landing-place, for we had signalled our 
near approach by a gun fired by Louis de F . 

Here we were welcomed with great enthusiasm, and 
when Monsieur M. saw our large force and formidable 
armament (for we had not less than seventeen guns of 
all sorts and sizes), he playfully made grave objections to 
our landing, asseverating that we had, no doubt, come 
to invade and, peradventure, conquer his domain ; but 
being assured that we were bound only against piscato- 
rial foes, he suffered us to debark, at the same time hint- 
ing that we were evidently on a secret Cuban expedition ; 
and your admiral (my husband) will be emperor, and 
"your fair lady Kate," he added, as he assisted me to 
the pier, "will be empress. I much fear I shall be 
called to account by my governor for aiding and abetting 
a foreign invasion if I harbor you to-night." 

We passed the night at this princely home of one of 
the best hearted southern gentlemen it was ever my lot 
to meet ; and resisting his pressing appeals to us to re- 
main another day and night, we took our departure, 
taking Monsieur M. with us; "for," he said, "if he 
could not detain such good company, the good company 
should retain him." 

We arrived, at nine o'clock at the estate of a New 
Orleans gentleman, who was a non-resident. In his 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 467 

beautiful garden, which the waters of La Fourche lave, 
we spread our morning meal, and never a pic-nic gather- 
ing had so mirthful a repast. After breakfast we re- 
embarked, and, under the cheering command to the 
rowers, ''Give way heartily, boys!" we moved rapidly 
down the bayou, the wide savannahs of the level sugar 
fields stretching away on either hand to the horizon ; the 
uniformity of the immense surface of waving cane, re- 
lieved here and there by clumps, or by single live oaks, 
by groves concealing residences, and by the tall " Be- 
gasse chimneys," of the sugar houses,, which made these 
huge brick buildings look like convents. 

About eleven o'clock a pleasant wind arose. I could 
see its effects, as I stood upon the deck of the yacht, a 
mile before we felt it, in the sea-like motion which it 
communicated to the tall tops of the sugar cane, which 
heaved and swelled beneath its invisible power like a 
green, billowy sea. 

To a northern eye, the best idea of a field of sugar- 
cane here, will be conveyed by imagining a perfectly 
level country, leagues in extent, without a fence, covered 
with corn, just as it is ready "to tassel," and if he 
imagines through this vast domain of level savan- 
nah a river, half the breadth of the Schuylkill, flowing 
almost level with the land, with here and there a group 
of trees dispersed over the green extent, and every mile 
or two a villa and a tall, tower-like chimney and sugar- 
house rising near it, a good idea of the country, through 
which the "La Fourche" winds will be obtained. 

When the breeze came to us we hoisted sail, and our 
black oarsmen rested. Under the wing-like canvas our 
little fleet flew cheerily onward; and as we drew nearer 



468 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

the Gulf the country became less pictures-q^ue, the sugar 
fields less numerous, and the abodes of planters farther 
and farther apart. At length we came, about two in the 
afternoon, to the last tree that stands on the coast be- 
tween it and the Gulf, twelve miles distant. This tree 
was a venerable live oak, and seemed to have stood there, 
the monarch of the savannah, for centuries. Its huge 
arms were broad enough to shelter five hundred men. 
Its situation was " sublimely lonely and solitarily grand," 
as one of the young gentlemen of our party, who writes 
poetry, said. 

As we came near the oak, we startled two deer from 
beneath it, which, after surveying us for an instant, took 
to flight, and were lost to the eye in a moment in the 
high gulf grass that grcAV close up to the tree, which 
stood on a little island of its own, for around it was the 
saline marsh that now took the place of the cultivated 
sugar fields, which we had left behind. 

It was decided by the "Admiral" that we should moor 
our fleet beneath the tree and here dine. 

You should have seen the bustle of preparation, Mr. 

. Our party consisted, all together, of descendants 

of Japhet, fourteen, and of descendants of Ham, nine, in 
all twenty-three persons; for to such a size had we in- 
creased by volunteers from the estates we took in our 
way. We were all friends, and knew one another well, 
so that, I verily believe, everybody called everybody 
(married or not) by their first name. Dignified married 
lady as I am, they every soul called me "Kate," as if I 
had been everybody's sister, or at least "cousin." 

While we were dining at tables beneath the tree, with 
servants in waiting, and every thing as nice and recherchd 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 469 

as if we were in a dining-room, Petit Pierre, who was 
drawing a cork from a bottle of Chateau Margaux, sud- 
denly uttered a formidable screech, dropped the bottle, 
and fled yelling for the tree ! We ladies, of course, were 
all alarmed, and the brave gentlemen sprung to their 
feet ; when Uncle Ned, from the boat, called out, 

^'Big alligator, master!" 

True enough, not fifty feet distant, a monstrous alli- 
gator was seen swimming across the bayou, just above 
us, to our side of it. Guns were in requisition ! Dogs 
were alert — and for a minute or more all was intense 
excitement. Bang, bang, crack, bung, ping! went off 
all sorts of fire-arms ; but the king of the marshes did not 
wait to contend matters, for he no sooner discovered into 
what a snare he had inadvertently put his royalty, than 
he made a queer noise like an elephant when teased, 
and dived down out of sight. Close watch, with guns at 
aim, was kept for his reappearance, but we saw him no 
more. Petit returned from the tree to terra firma and 
finished drawing the cork, and we resumed our meal, 
which was interpolated by alligator stories, told by the 
gentlemen. 

After we had well dined, about four o'clock, we re-em- 
barked. The wind was fair and free, and our five boats, all 
under snowy canvas, went careering onward towards the 
Gulf. 

In about half-an-hour one of the young gentlemen in 
another yacht, who had climbed the mast, called out, 

^' Gulf, ho!" 

At this sound we were all upon our feet, for some of us 
had been taking siestas in our berths ; but on going out 
all I could see was the tall sea-grass spreading for miles 



470 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

around as; and even the old oak being no longer visible ; 
nothing but an ocean of brownish green grass eight 
feet high, that tossed in the wind like a wave-moving 
sea. But in a little while a bend in the bayou opened 
the Gulf full before us, and with clapping hands and ex- 
clamations of delight at its broad blue expanse and green 
islands, we hailed the welcome sight. 

But another letter must take up my narrative. Till 

then, farewell. 

Truly your friend, 

Kate. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 471 



LETTER LXIII. 



My Dear Mr. : 

The kind compliments which the newspapers and some 
of your correspondents have paid my poor ''Needles," 
not onlv encourage me and inspire me to try and deserve 
their commendations, but make me grateful. Nothing 
makes me so happy as to make happiness for others ; and 
if the perusal of one of my letters has beguiled a half 
hour of any one, I am well repaid. The greatest reward 
of a writer is the happiness to which his pen has con- 
tributed. 

To be sure, he must be paid in money to buy ink, and 
pens, and paper, but those are to enable him to write ; 
and money, also, is a very nice thing when one wants a 
new pair of shoes, or a shawl in cold weather, or bread 
and butter, and tea. True, authors are not so much 
paid for what they write, as that they receive means to 
enable them to write ! The writing is given, but the 
bodily strength, the ink and paper, the table to write on, 
the floor on which the table stands, the roof over head, 
the window or lamp for light, the fire to keep him warm, 
his breakfasts, dinners, suppers, — the editor and pub- 
lisher gives him money only to pay for these ; supplies 
the fuel '' to keep up the steam," to use a plain American 
phrase. 

But I will not stray away from the proper subject of 



472 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

this letter, which is a continuation of the journal of our 
romantic expedition to the Gulf and its green islands. 

My last closed just as our fleet of pleasure yachts 
came in sight of the hroad horizon of the Mexican Gulf, 
on the afternoon of the second day after leaving Lake 
Illiwalla in the interior, our course by the bayous having 
been nearly one hundred miles altogether. 

The sight of the gulf was hailed by us with shouts. 
We had to go yet six miles before debouching into it 
from the bayou, which glided like a tortuously moving 
and shining serpent between the borders of tall reddish 
grass. This grass was the size of a quill and seven feet 
tall, and grew not of visible soil, but out of mud under 
the water. 

As far as the eye could extend there was one vast 
plain of grass, level as the sea; but there was not any- 
where visible a foot of land, not a place where Noah's 
dove could rest its poor little weary feet. 

The sable oarsmen now pulled cheerily to their oars, 
as we intended to gain an island a league off the coast, 
which was visible like a pale green streak of cloud, 
asleep on the horizon. Near this island, as we ap- 
proached the mouth of the bayou, we discovered at 
anchor a small sloop, which the gentlemen said was 
waiting for a wind to run up the bayou we were in, to 
load with sugar from the plantations, and take it down 
and round to New Orleans, for many of the planters 
send their staple to market in this way rather than up 
the bayou, past Thibodeaux, and so across into the Mis- 
sissippi and to New Orleans. This present mode had 
the advantage both of economy and security. 

When within a mile of the mouth, a breeze caught our 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 473 

little flags, and we hoisted sail and gave our rowers rest, 
though they showed no fatigue. Indeed, the endurance 
of the African slaves is marvelous. They will row hour 
after hour, and at the last are as brisk and lively, and 
sing their songs as cheerily as in the outset. There 
seems no tire to a negro ; no end to his good humor 
when he is on a party of this kind, for they enjoy it 
quite as much as '' massa and missus." Such delightful, 
willing, apprehending, anticipating-your-want servants, 
never were as this race of bondsmen. They seem in 
servitude to be where they wish to be, for they are by 
nature dependent, and they love to look up to some one 
who "takes the responsibility;" and for this responsi- 
bility they are ready to give in return their labor and 
life-service. Certainly /rge negroes are the worst possi- 
ble servants, and for want of healthy authority, and some 
stronger head to think and do for them, they become 
very degraded. I have just seen a book called " A 
South side View of slavery," by Eev. Dr. Adams, of 
Boston, which every man and woman north ought to 
read. It is the only reply that has been made to " Uncle 
Tom's Cabin," lately published without intending to be 
a reply to it. If our northern friends would read this 
book, they would leave slavery to the south and to the 
Providence of God for the final adjustment, of all vexed 
questions it has given rise to. The south feels the re- 
sponsibility as profoundly as the north. The Christians, 
and wise, and thinking men in the south have this sub- 
ject at heart, and will be the instruments (not the north- 
ern abolitionists) chosen of God for the amelioration and 
final emancipation of the race, if God ordain that they 
shall ever be free. But every step made by the north to 



474 THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR, 

coerce, is naturally met by southerners (who are quite as 
humane as gentlemen, and gentle as ladies, as the north- 
erners,) with barriers and defences, and more formidable 
entrenchments thrown up about their institutions. These, 

Mr. , are the views of a northern woman, who has 

dwelt long enough in the south to see things as they are. 
Abide God's time ! Wait for the Moses of the Lord God 
of Hosts ! All the efforts of supposable philanthropists 
in Egypt could not have hastened one day sooner the 
deliverance from bondage of Israel ; nay, the first move- 
ment towards it of Moses himself, only caused Pharaoh 
to- heap additional burdens upon them. Such has been 
the result of the mere human movement of the northern 
fanatics ; they have taken away the straw from the la- 
borers, and made firmer their bonds. In God's time His 
Moses will be found borne upon the waters of time, and 
God, and not man, if the slave is to be free, will lead 
Africa, as once he did Israel, out of the House of 
Bondage. 

How shall I describe the beautiful spectacle our little 
fleet presented, with sails all a-spread, as we darted like 
a flock of gulls out from the houclie of the narrow bayou 
into the open expanse of the gulf! The sun was about 
half an hour high, and covering the waves with gold and 
orange, while the heavens in the west, where he was go- 
ing down, were gorgeous with green, purple, and crimson, 
beyond painter's pencil or poet's pen. No wonder the 
Indian, in his fresh imagination, believed the western 
heavens to be the gate to his celestial hunting grounds ! 
A little child once gazing on such a sky of glory, said 
to me : — 

"Aunt Kate, heaven is so full of light and pretty 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 475 

colors, that when God opens its gate at sun down to let 
the sun go in, they burst out, don't they?" 

Is not that pretty, Mr. ? Children's sayings are 

so fresh and original, often so wonderful, that if parents 
would preserve all their speeches in writing, a lovely book 
could be made up of them, of the greatest interest. 
What mammas will recollect and send to you for a corner 
of your paper, all the pretty thoughts out-spoken by 
their little ones ? A little girl of five years, whose at- 
tending ears had heard talking at home about High and 
Low Church, was taken to a church where the pulpit 
was unusually lofty. While they were singing she 
whispered to her ma, " That minister, ma, must be very 
high church, as high as the Communion of Saints!" 

But while I am chattering about little people, our 
yacht begins to 

" rock lightly on the tide," 

and curvets and rears like a cantering pony to the un- 
dulating waves, which ever and forever roll and unroll 
themselves in the deep sea. The motion is, however, by 
no means unpleasant ; but we have to look after move- 
ables, and whoever tries to walk, goes toddling about not 
half so gracefully as my little Harry, whose natural gait 
being a roll, is quite at home as he moves about the 
cabin, his roll, meeting the yacht's roll, counteracts it, 
and he goes about straight as an Indian. The weather 
is always delightful at this season, and never was a 
lovelier evening than that, amid the roseate and golden 
beauties of which we sailed across the channel to the 
island, which lay like a huge emerald upon a sea of silver 
rosSe, to gallicise a word. 



476 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

When about a mile from the island, and just as the 
sun descended into the deep, all the gentlemen together 
fired off a feu de joie. At this loud fusilade, ten thousand 
ducks that were reposing upon the surface of the water 
near the island, rose like a black cloud into the sky, and 
flew round and round in a wild vortex, about a hundred 
feet in the air; while herons, pelicans, and gulls, that 
were in the covert of the island-shore, startled from their 
propriety, scattered in all ways and in the utmost alarm. 
With the spy-glass, an alligator, a rare visitor in salt 
water, was seen to plunge into the water ; and last, yet 
not least, the sloop which was moored about a mile from 
us, close under the island, hurriedly slipped her cable, 
hoisted her mainsail and jib, and fairly ran away from 
us, no doubt believing our merry and peaceful pic-nic 
party, a piratical expedition; or at least of such "ques- 
tionable shape," as not to be waited for! Thereupon 
the bearded ones of our company set up a wild and loud 
huzza, and cheered the flying sloop with the greatest 
good humor imaginable. 

"Doubtless," said my quiet husband, "that skipper, 
wdien he reaches New Orleans, will report having seen 
and been fired into, and hotly pursued by a flotilla of 
seven armed boats, full of men, off the mouth of Bayou 
La Fourche ! and that he and his crew only escaped, by 
slipping his cable and putting to sea." The result 
showed that my husband was in the right. 

The wind left our canvass as we drew near the island, 
which the Spaniards call "Isla de Boca," but the old 
Frenchmen, "Isle des Oiseaux," or Isle of Birds. It is 
about a league in length and half a mile wide, with 
clumps of live oaks sprinkled over its surface, which is 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 477 

dry and elevated, but without any variation of its 
perfect level. The rowers pulled into a little cove, 
where we moored our fleet ; and by the light of the rising 
moon the gentlemen landed in the small boats, and 
began to look out a place for the servants to set up the 
tent. 

On board the admiral's vessel — that is in my ship — 
the ladies all assembled to take tea by invitation while 
the gentlemen superintended and assisted in landing the 
paraphernalia. We had a pleasant time and a laugh- 
ringing one, at our supper, which was gracefully handed 
round by Petit. In less than an hour the great tent or 
"markee" was erected, and lifted its white pyramidal 
walls in the soft moonlight like a palace of pearl. In 
the centre was suspended a swinging lamp, that brightly 
lighted the interior. Camp-stools, a table, lounges, and 
all the furniture necessary to make it a handsome draw- 
ing-room, were placed within. There were five other 
tents smaller than this, two of which were exclusively 
for the ladies' abodes ; though one or two of them, from 
fear of horrid alligators, imaginary lions, tigers, wolves, 
and bears, to say nothing of dreadful elephants, de- 
termined to keep their quarters in the cabins of the 
yachts. 

Hammocks and iron-framed bedsteads were provided 
for those who chose to sleep in the tents. The spot 
where our little snow-white city was thus magically built 
was very picturesque. A crescent shaped cove of spark- 
ling sand was in front, where the yachts lay moored, 
bows outward, in a half-circle, like a fleet protecting a 
harbor; overhead spread the interlaced branches of three 
great oaks, and near was a well of pure water, which the 



478 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

buccaneers who liad once resorted to this island, had dug; 
for this ishmd is not far from Barrataria Bay and Isle, 
where "Lafitte" had his rendezvous before the last war 
with England; and in the sweet place where we pitched 
our camp, Theodore and Constanza had doubtless walked 
and sighed and loved beneath the same golden moon that 
shone on us. 

"Suppose," said one of our romantic young ladies 
"that there should be buccaneers here now, and that they 
should suddenly appear in one of their terrible long, low, 
black schooners opposite our cove, and come in and fight 
with our defenders, conquer them, and carry us all off to 
some remote isle, where in some splendid cavern they 
live like kings and lords!" 

The pretty Marie ejaculated, "Not for the world!" 
The noble Mathilde smiled and said, "How romantic it 
tvoiddheV Grace Lyndall, one of our belles, clapped 
her beautiful hands and exclaimed, 

" Of all things how I sJwuld like it!" 

"Don't speak of such things, I beg of you," said the 
young and charming Madame Dumont, who with her 
husband had joined us, the evening before, from their 
plantation. 

" The tents are all pitched and ready for occupation, 
fair dames all," said Monsieur M. from the shore, "but 
what are you talking about? — the pirates?" 

"Yes, colonel, and we were wishing that a nice, long, 
low, black, saucy-looking schooner, would pay us a 
sudden visit, and carry us all off," said Grace; and this 
girl had the richest voice, that I ever heard from 
woman's lips ; every sound that music knows were min- 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 4V9 

gled with a surfeit of sweetness in the gohlen alembic 
of its tones. 

We were soon all on shore, and were perfectly charmed 
with the preparations which the taste and attention of 
the gentlemen had made for us. The green sward, the 
bright moon, a violin which Scipio (one of our boatmen) 
was tuning, and the joyousness of the occasion tempted 
us to dance; and for an hour we outdid Queen Mab and 
her fairy ball. Suddenly, while we were in the midst 
of our gaiety, a long, low, black, ominous-looking vessel 
poked her sharp nose around the point, and as her tall 
sails became visible in the broad moonbeams, Grace 
Lyndall, who j&rst espied it, as she was splendidly schot- 
tisching with her cousin Louis, uttered the loudest and 
most terrified shriek, that I ever heard or ever hope to 
hear! 

It transfixed us all like statues, and Scipio's music 
froze stifi* on the strings of his fiddle bow. Grace ended 
her scream in total unconsciousness, for she became 
instantly insensible on Louis' arm. The rest of the 
ladies, beholding the same dreadful vision, took up the 
key-note, and screamed "most musically," each clinging 
to one of the gentlemen. 

Mari^ gasped to my husband, "Save — oh — save me!" 
As for myself, I was petrified with bewildering asto- 
nishment. That it could be a buccaneer, I could not 
for a moment believe; but reflecting where we were, 
and what the island had been, I began to wish little 
Harry and myself and husband and all of us safe at home 
again. 

The younger gentlemen ran for their arms; but be- 
fore any defensive steps could be taken, the whole 



480 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

hull of the schooner came in open view, not three 
hundred yards distant, and from her deck came a 
hoarse hail, that nearly killed out what little courage I 
had left. 

^'Ahoy ! what boats are those?" 

And with the words we could see a lighted fusee in 
the hand of a man who was standing by a cannon that 
was pointing towards poor us. 

"Pirates without question!" said my husband gravely; 
" and we must make the best battle we can !" 

"Oh, no — no !" cried the ladies; "it cannot be so bad 
as that!" 

" Ahoy, ashore ! Give an account of yourselves, or 
we fire into you !" was again thundered from her deck. 

"A pleasure party," answered the colonel; "nothing 
more ! Are you the surveying Revenue Cutter?" 

"Yes," answered the officer on deck, laughing so that 
we could hear him; "beg pardon for disturbing you. 
But we were informed by the skipper of a sloop, an hour 
ago, that hailed us on the south side of the island, that 
he had been chased by a fleet of armed boats. The 
ladies will please accept my apologies and regrets for 
alarming them." 

We were now all mortification and laughter. The 
captain of the cutter was hailed, and invited to land, 
which he did in a four-oared boat. He was a fine- 
looking young officer, and enjoyed our fright vastly, 
when the gentlemen — to two of whom he was known 
— informed him of our table chat about "Lafitte." 
We invited him to dine with us next day, as he grace- 
fully took his leave of us, and in a little while we 



I 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 481 

saw the vessel Avhich had caused us such a terrible fright 

gliding slowly and beautifully away until she was lost in 

the distant haze of mist and moonbeams. 

Yours truly, 

Kate. 
31 



'1^2 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OK, 



LETTER LXIV. 



Deae Mr. 



It seems to me very strange that people will not 
take folks as they are, and not amuse themselves with 
guessing that somebody is somebody else. Now I hear 
and see from certain editorial notices of my poor 
Needles, that I am not Kate Conyngham at all, but that 
this is a no7n de plume, a mere masque to conceal my 
true features. Another saucy fellow of an editor as- 
serts that I am not a Miss at all, but that I am a Mister 
W., or 3Iister D., or some other gentleman. Dear me ! 
What can there be so masculine in my poor Needles as 
to give rise to such a hint ? Even those sage persons- 
who believe me to be a lady declare that I am Miss 
Pardee, the authoress ; some, that I am the fair daughter 

of the Rev. Mr. of Mobile ; and some, that I am 

a younger sister of ; and somebody says, I dare 

say, that I am nobody at all. 

Now, Mr. , I protest against all this skepticism. 

Have I not been for five years, or more, your corres- 
pondent ? Can you not bear testimony to my person- 
ality and alleged identity ? Have you not seen my let- 
ters, and have you not, at this moment, my daguerreo- 
type ? I call upon you to bear witness to my having 
been Miss Katharine Conyngham, and no other lady else, 
and that, though I am now a married dame, I am entitled 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 483 

to that former name, if I choose to retain it as an au- 
thoress. Because the talented Fanny Fern, Grace Green- 
woody and other brilliant autorial ladies, have noms 
de plume, is no reason that every one should have ! 

Please say to these naughty editors that I am myself, 
and nobody else, and that I am not a mere shadow, an 
'' umhra umhrarum^'" — if that is bad Latin recollect it 
is lady's Latin ; and that ladies can decline Bonus better 
than a certain western member of congress, who once 
gave, ^s the relic of schooldom, the following toast : — 

" The ladies — Bonus, bonior, honissimus ! good, better, 
best ! The Lord bless 'em !" 

But to our pic-nic campaign ! I ended my last letter 
with an account of our visit from an imaginary buccaneer. 
That night we slept as safely in our tents as we should 
have done at home ; and as the gentlemen took turns, 
two at the time, in standing guard to see that we were 
not intruded upon by mischievous animals from land or 
water, we felt perfectly secure. I recollect falling asleep, 
soothed by the sweet melody of a guitar and a fine manly 
voice. It was the cavalier, Louis, serenading outside her 
tent the fair Mathilde within. 

In the morning we were up bright and early, and, 
finding breakfast all prepared by the willing servants, 
we were soon ready for the day's adventures. The 
order for the day was, that the ladies who chose to do so 
should accompany the hunters in the largest yacht, as 
the former rowed around the island, in search of game ; 
and that they should fish, crochet, read, and amuse 
themselves as they pleased, while the gentlemen landed 
and pursued their sport. 

We had a delightful row around the point, to the south 



484 THE SUNNY south; or, 

of the island, where we again saw the cutter which we 
had taken for a buccaneer. It was a beautiful object, all 
grace and symmetry, her white wings spread, and her 
taper masts diminishing to mere wands. 

With all her lightness and grace, her black hull and 
warlike guns gave her a battle air that made me think 
of sea fights, and all the horrors of naval warfare. 

Far away to the west we saw two other vessels, one of 
which was the runaway sloop ; but she was now trying 
to regain the mouth of the Lafourche, no doubt satisfied 
that, as the revenue cutter did not molest us, we were 
harmless people, wdth all our fusihading and huzzaing. 

But I will not take up your time, Mr. , in making 

you read a complete journal of our ten days' stay in the 
islands of the Gulf, for we did not confine ourselves to 
the Isle of Birds, but on the fifth day, during which we 
had charming weather, the gentlemen got up an expedi- 
tion to Barrataria Bay, a few leagues eastward. They 
had got weary of killing ! Birds of all wings, alligators, 
deer, and fish of all fins, had rewarded them and our 
praiseworthy efi'orts ; and a change, for the sake of 
variety, was gladly welcomed. We, therefore, left a 
guard of two servants with our tents, and, having pro- 
visioned our boats for three days, we all embarked in the 
sunny, bright morning on our coasting expedition. At 
this season of the year the weather is all unbrokenly 
fair, and rain was no more to be feared than an earth- 
quake. 

It was a delightful voyage along the curving Gulf 
shore, from which we did not venture more than four or 
five miles. Now and then we could see a distant sail 
that lay low on the horizon, and looking no bigger than 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 485 

a lady's fincrer-nail. About noon I discovered, with my 
"sharp" eyes, a brown smoke, seemingly rising from 
the sea. I pointed it out to Marie, and she exclaimed: 

" A volcano at sea !" 

Whereupon everybody looked from all the boats. 

" It is a steamer, bound from New Orleans to Gal- 
veston," said my husband, the admiral of our fleet. 

"But we see no vessel, only smoke," remarked Grace, 
trying to steady a spy glass, which Louis was holding 
with both hands to her eye. 

" The boat itself is under the line of the horizon," said 
Colonel M. 

" The periphery of the earth conceals it beneath the 
curved line of the arc of the convex horizon," said one 
of the young men who had lately left college, and was 
entitled to talk learnedly. 

The sight of a column of smoke, actually rising from 
beneath the level sea line of the horizon, was a novel 
sight. "With the spy-glass we could see the smoke rolling 
and rolling skyward, as if not more than a mile apparent 
distance, yet no sign of chimney or masts discernible I 
There it ascended from its invisible smoke-pipe, for all 
the world like a volcano belching itself up out of the 
Gulf. We followed it with our eyes until it gradually 
receded westward, and disappeared in an hour far below 
the horizon's arc. 

It is a very strange sight to see smoke traveling along 
the sea in that style, without any apparent cause ap 
pcnded. What a visible proof of the earth's sphericity 
it is ! I recollect when we passed Portsmouth, in 
England, the masts only of the British fleet were visible, 
looking like a forest in the water, the hulls being below 



480 THE SUNNY south: or 



the curve. The truth is, that there can be no such thing 
as a perfectly straight line on this globulous earth ! Even 
the yardstick is but a curved wand, to be sure the arc 
it makes is not perceptible; and the floors of our houses 
if extended far enough, would form an arc of the earth's 
circle of more or less degrees. The term level is a 
misnomer — it does not exist. There is nothing level or 
plane — sphericity possesses all things terrestrial. 

One wouldn't suppose that such a big world as ours 
would betray its roundness, in so short a distance as lay 
between us and the steamer. I have no doubt, with 
proper data to start with, that the height of a steamer's 
chimney being known, and also her exact distance from 
the eye, a calculation could be made which would reach 
a figure that would show the earth's circumference in 
miles. 

Last summer, while at the beautiful watering place at 
Pass Christian, I made a curious and perhaps new 
calculation of ascertaining the distance of an object. 
There is a light-ship moored nine miles off the town. I 
found that by placing a small needle at arm's length 
horizontally until the needle and ship cqjpeared to be ex- 
actly the same length, which is when the needle covers 
the ship's length completely, that I could verify the dis- 
tance to be nine miles. I did it in this way : I first fixed 
the needle horizontally by striking it in a post level with 
my eye. I then stepped back until the needle and ship 
were blended in one another exactly. I then measured 
the distance between my eye and the needle in inches. 
As I knew the length of the needle and of the ship, with 
these three known terms, I obtained accurately, the 
fourth unknown one. Perhaps the process is known to 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 487 

mathematicians ; if so, I will not take out a patent. I 
wish some of your ^' great cypherers" would verify this 
process. 

But I am getting too learned, and must go back to our 
pic-nic. All that day we coasted along the level green 
shores of the Gulf, with not a tree visible for two and 
three leagues inland, and then they looked like round blue 
clouds. No shores can be more tame ! 

At length, just as the lovely day was closing, we came 
into the mouth of "Lafitte's Bay," as it is termed, and 
on our right saw the island Barrataria, where the bucca- 
neer had his rendezvous. Now it looked peaceful enough. 
A few fishermen and a fleet of oyster boats were anchored 
around it, plying their fishy trade ; and we could discover 
above a group of trees the roof of a mansion where resides, 
or did reside, a planter, who had a sugar plantation on the 
island. The gentleman's name I believe is Bennet, and 
he has fair daughters, whose presence throw a grace over 
the scenes of ancient buccaneerdom, that disassociates 
the island of all its former renown, as the home of the 
pirates. We remained on board our boats all night ; and 
such a star bright night never was ! The atmosphere ap- 
peared to be full of light. The splendor of the fixed stars, 
and the milder lustre of the planets were unsurpassed. 
The heavens seemed to come nearer to us. Every star 
above had a star beneath it on the sea; and when the 
moon arose about eleven o'clock, there was a pavement 
of silver across the water from our feet to her very 
throne. 

The next day we wandered over the island, and pic- 
nic' d on the grassy glacis of the ruined fortress which 
Lafitte fortified to defend his island home against cruisers. 



488 THE SUNNY SOUTH*. OR, 



A large oak stood near, beneath which he had his tent, 
which, says tradition, was more hixuriously furnished 
than an Oriental prince's. We were shown by an old 
French fisherman, who knew Lafitte, a gun that once 
belonged to his vessel; and as the old man, who could 
not have been less than seventy, loved to talk of the 
famous smuggler, we let him relate his stories to which 
we listened — being on the.ground itself of the scenes — 
with lively interest. 

Louis read aloud several pages from one of the ro- 
mances, and we sought to verify all the descriptions ; but 
novelists cannot always make use of placid and level 
scenery, and they remove mountains and place them 
where they want them ; and gardens, waterfalls, vales 
and groves, cliffs and rivulets, all obey the waving of 
their wand, and presto ! appear when they command. 
But w^e found mainly the novel and the scene in gratify- 
ing harmony, one with the other ; and where there was 
a difference, was evidently owing to the changes pro- 
duced by time and circumstances. Our visit was a most 
satisfactory one, and we re-embarked at evening, de- 
lighted with our excursion over the Pirate's Isle. 

On the evening of the third day we reached our en- 
campment without mishap, and found all safe. The 
next morning we struck tents, and, with our boats filled 
with game and its trophies, we set sail, with a fine land- 
w^ard wind, for the mouth of La Fourche. As you al- 
ready know the scenery of that bayou, Mr. , I will 

not describe our voyage home, which we reached on the 
third day, all well, and marvelously sun-browned ; look- 
ing like so many gipsies. As for my Harry, the little 
fellow's cheeks are as brown a? a chinquapin ; but he has 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 489 

gained full four pounds, and is more saucy and liandsome 
than ever. 

I was charmed to be once more at home. Not all the 
beautiful cabins and pretty yachts, and fishing and 
camping out under markees, can compensate for one's 
own home. Home is home, and nothing else could he 
home ! I would rather live in a cabin of logs, and feel 
that it was my home ; that there was a peg for my hus- 
band's hat ; a place for his chair in one corner, and my 
work-stand in the other ; on my right hand vii/ little tea 
cup-board, and on the other the stand with the large 
Bible, the cat on the rug, and old Buck, the house-dog, 
chained in his kennel ; my milch-coAV and her calf in the 
neat yard, and nobody to molest or rule over us, as one 
finds it even in the best of boarding-houses. 

There is a wretched and unhappy custom in vogue, for 
young married couples to go to a hotel or boarding- 
house ! When should husband and wife love to be by 
themselves in their own home, if not the first months 
and year of marriage ? It is a miserable life, garish, 
hollow, artificial, love-killing, heart-withering life, this 
boarding, for young couples ! Girls, better wait a-wee ! 
better delay than be married and put under the peculiar 
system of keen-eyed espionage and authority common to 
boarding-houses. Boarders have no souls of their own 
— that is, they dare not sa?/ so ! Keep house — if only 
in one room ! You wdll be happier, and your husband 
wall love you better, and it will be far better for you 
both. A boarding-house life, for the fresh young hearts 
of new married folks, is, with all deference and respect 
for all lady-like, and good, kind landladies, like a killing 



490 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

frost upon tlic young buds of spring. One never liveB 
that boards ! One only stays and endures ! 

But, good-bye, Mr. 

Your friend, 

Kate, and nobody else. 



\ 



THE SOUTnERNER AT HOME. 491 



LETTER LXV. 



My Dear Mr. : 

I AM, for a few days, sojourning in this lovely shore- 
side village of villas, Pass Christian. It is, as the map 
will, or ought to show you, on Lake Pontchartrain, where 
the south border of Mississippi is washed by the waves 
of the salt sea. The "Pass," as it is familiarly called, 
is celebrated for its pure and salubrious air, the beauty 
of its site, the elegance of its private mansions, the re- 
finement and wealth of its citizens, its excellent academy 
of education for young misses, and its military school ; 
moreover, it is the favorite summer resort of the more 
opulent New Orleanois, many of whom have built taste- 
ful abodes along the shore facing the lake, where gar- 
dens and lawns, porticoes and verandahs, enchant the 

eye. 

There is properly only one street comprising the town ; 
but this street is four miles long, open one side to the 
breezes of gulf, and on the other bordered by handsome 
villas, most of its length. 

A little brown Roman Catholic chapel lifts its cross 
amid these mansions, its front adorned with two statues, 
one of the Virgin, and another of St. Paul, in a niche 
high above the entrance. There is appended to the lat- 
ter, this inscription : — 



492 the sunny south; or, 

"doctori gentiam;" 

So, to the Teacher of the Nations, this chapel is dedi- 
cated, while "Mary," like the goddess Diana, (for the 
blessed Virgin is now made a goddess by the Pope,) 
stands upon a pedestal above, to receive the homage and 
worship of her votaries. Jesus, being always repre- 
sented only as a little child, is quite cast into the shade 
by His mother. The Romans, in their adorations, never 
seem to contemplate Christ as a man, but only as the 
"child Jesus" in the mother's arms, and hence transfer 
all their worship to the mother, whom, it w^ould seem, 
they believe more capable of appreciating it than a babe. 
I think this, as I have before remarked, is the secret of 
their Mariolatry. 

Nevertheless, it is a pretty little chapel, and in keep- 
ing with the place ; but its worshipers are chiefly of the 
humble class of Creole fishermen, and descendants of 
the old French families ; for the Pass was once wholly 
French. Here the Marquis of Ponchartrain once so- 
journed, and buried his only daughter, who, report says, 
died of love for an Indian Prince. Her grave is beneath 
three live oaks that stand on the verge of the beach, not 
far from the chapel ; but the head-stone has long since 
disappeared. It was this nobleman who gave name to 
the lake. The residence of the Marquis, who was one 
of the most accomplished courtiers of the French court, 
and sent by Louis to govern this Province, is now marked 
only by the site of the light house, which stands in a 
garden; a lovely object, peering above the trees, and 
singularly contrasting with the usual desolate look of 
such edifices, standing alone and treeless upon some 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 493 

storm-beaten headland. In the same garden with this 
snow-white tower, which, after sunset sends its brilliant 
light far out upon the waters, guiding the mariner home, 
is the village post-office ; a snug little cottage nestling 
under its walls. The post-master is a "lady," and the 
daughter, if I mistake not, of the famous Captain Ilearn, 
who, in the last war, beat off a British vessel that was 
coming in to fire the town ; or he did some equally brave 
act, for which, government at this day rewards the 
daughter by an office, as it did the father. A son of 
this sea-fighter commanded the superb steamer, Cuba, in 
which we came over from New Orleans ; and, though a 
large, rough looking man, he has a great and generous 
heart, and is as true a gentleman as ever took off his hat 
to a lady ; and looks as, if there were any more fighting 
to do for his country, he would not be found wanting. 
When I was quite a young girl, I used to think no man 
could be a gentleman who did not dress in the "fashion," 
wear kid gloves, a nicely brushed hat, and polished boots, 
with one ring at least, and a gold watch. But that was 
the folly and ignorance of girlhood, which thinks all lov- 
ers should be knights in helmet and buckler, and that no 
young knight was fit for a lady's love who had not killed 
his rival and her other lover in a "wager of battle." 

Dear me ! I have had time to reverse my decision 
since then ; and much dressed men I always suspect ! 1 
have found in the world that the truest merit is without 
affectation ; and that a right down gentleman thinks but 
little of fashion ; and so I have met with as noble and 
true gentlemen in rough linsey-woolsey garb, as in 
broadcloth. In a word, I do not noiv form a precon- 
ceived opinion of a man from his dress or appearance. 



494 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

The most eminent men tliat one falls in with in tra- 
veling, are the plainest and simplest in dress and 
manner. 

The Pass, as I have said, consists in one long street, 
that winds and bends with the graceful curve of the lake 
shore. About the centre of this is the landing place, 
where passengers embark and disembark for Mobile or 
New Orleans; these cities being about equi-distant (or 
seven hours' sail) on each side of the Pass. 

About half a mile from the pier, westward, is the 
Lake Institute, at the head of which is the Rector of the 
church here. Rev. Dr. Savage, the gentleman who was 
pioneer in the Cape Palmas mission, and who remained 
nine years in Africa, which owes more to him than to any 
other man living, for her religious prosperity. The 
doctor is a scientific man, and is a member of several 
foreign and cis- Atlantic Academies of Science ; and, as 
a naturalist, he stands in the front rank. I was charmed 
with a visit made yesterday to his school, which is a 
large southern-built mansion house, facing the lake, from 
which it is separated by a spacious lawn, tastefully orna- 
mented. The trees of a pine grove form a dark, rich 
background to the house and its dormitories and study 
hall. This school is the best in the South, and deservedly 
has a high reputation. It numbers about sixty pupils, 
which, I believe, is its full limit. It is patronized chiefly 
by Mobile and New Orleans ; and of the former city I 
saw at least a dozen fair girls, whose beauty gives one a 
favorable idea of female loveliness in that city, which we 
are soon to visit. 

So great is the hostility of the northern abolitionists 
against the South, that southern parents are becoming 



THE SOUTHERNER AT UOME. 495 

more and more reluctant to send their sons and daugh- 
ters there to return with hostile opinions to create dis- 
cord and confusion at home. For self-protection they 
are rallying around their own Colleges and Female In- 
stitutes ; and all that has been wanting was this union 
of purpose, to raise schools of learning to the highest 
scholastic rank. Northern teachers are regarded with 
suspicion, though employed. Lately Professor Silliman 
has struck a death-bloAV to the sending southern young 
men north, by asserting in a public lecture : ^' We do 
not want your southern youth ! We can get along with- 
out them !" It will be a bold Southerner that sends his 
son to a northern college after this. 

Even the school-books published in the North are to 
be expurgated, ere they will be introduced into Southern 
schools, for instance, in a geography now before me, 
printed in New York, occurs a sentence which says "that 
the negroes will yet one day rise against the Southern 
planters and destroy them;" and fifty other such things 
are in Northern school books. The result will be, that 
unless Abolitionism cease its hostility, the South will 
separate itself from the North virtually, by having its 
own teachers, schools, clergy, mechanics, literature, and 
books of education. 

The church, of which the Rev. Dr. Savage is Kector, 
is near the Institute, in a grove of oaks and pines. It 
is a picturesque Gothic edifice, and the very beau ideal 
of a rural church. In the rear is the cemetery, with a 
handsome arch above the gate- way, and contains several 
tasteful tombs. A Sabbath holiness and quiet reigned 
over the spot when I visited it yesterday. I was shown 
there the grave of a wealthy young South Carolinian, 



496 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

who had been a dissipated man and a sceptic. Just be- 
fore he died he desired ten acres to be purchased of 
government in the wild forest beyond the town, and a 
grave to be dng in the centre, wherein he directed his 
friends to place his body; and after filling the grave, to 
smooth it level with the surrounding earth, and removing 
all signs of sepulture, let the grass and the brush groAV 
up and conceal it from human search ; and in order that 
it might be forgotten, the land was never to be claimed 
by his heritors, but to revert to the government again as 
wild land. 

This Will — the expression of a soul dark and desolate, 
without the hopes and promises of the Gospel, which 
make the grave a hallowed rest, above which Hope ever 
hovers on golden wings, waiting the resurrection morn — 
this Will w^as, of course, not carried out. His body was 
conveyed to this secluded cemetery, and here interred, 
with all the respect that the living owe the dead. 

Upon leaving this solemn home of the dead of earth, 
our steps took us in the direction of a mound near the 
village blacksmith's dingy shop. Already I knew the 
story of this green mound of earth ; but an old negro, 
"Uncle Tom," at the shop, gravely and politely, with 
his hat in his hand, informed my husband, "Dat it was 
de fort General Jackson fout the Indjuns from." Gen- 
eral Jackson however never "fout" at the Pass. 

The mound is now much worn away ; but trees grow 
upon it showing its age. It is an interesting relic of the 
past. By the French it was called the "Young King's 
Tomb." The tradition is, that when the Indian chief 
heard that Eugenie, the daughter of Marquis Pontchar- 
train, had wilted and died like a blighted flower, he 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 497 

refused to eat, broke his spear in two, buried his arrows, 
and sat day and night upon her grave singing his death 
Bong. At length he was found cold and dead one sun- 
rise, his head laid upon her grave. The warriors bore 
his body to the place where his father was buried, and 
entombed him with his arms, beneath a mound which 
their affection raised to his memory. Not far distant is 
another mound, not so high, where repose the bones of 
Tamala, his father. The sound of the forge and the 
anvil alone break the stillness of the spot. 

As we turned away to resume our loitering about the 
Pass, a man walked slowly by, whom a lady, who was 
with us, pointed out as the son of a celebrated buccaneer 
who used to rendezvous here. 

Afterwards I saw this man, now a peaceable citizen, 
part farmer, part fisherman, who not only verified the 
assertion, but from him I learned that his brother, who 
dwelt upon the coast, had in his possession a package of 
papers and a chart of an island in the Gulf, which directed 
where exactly to find buried a great treasure. This 
treasure consisted of the spoils, he said, of Spanish ships, 
and had been buried on one of the Tortugas' ; but no man 
had yet been to search for it. He has promised to get 
the papers, which he said are written in French, and a 

copy of the chart. Hear that, Mr. ! The next I 

shall hear of you, may be, that you are commanding a 
schooner in search of this hidden treasure ! 

There is no doubt about this man having "the papers," 
I am told by a gentleman here ; but as such researches 
have so often proved failures, no attention has been paid 

to the fact. You shall be duly informed, Mr. , when 

I discover the hidden gold. 
32 



498 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

This was once a famous haunt for buccaneers, and after 
cruisers broke up their "dreadful trade," they settled 
down here in quiet occupations ; and among the humble 
French citizens, are found their descendants — inoffensive 
people enough, who subsist by fishing and coasting. 

There is a Military Academy here under the command 
of Ashbel Green, once a lawyer in Philadelphia, and son 
to a former President of Princeton College. It is, I 
understand, a very efficient school, with about fifty 
cadets. 

There is an amusing peculiarity of water scenery 
here at the Pass. Every house on the shore has its 
private bath-house. The water being shoal, they are 
erected at the end of a wharf projecting sometimes a 
thousand feet out into the lake. Thus, when one looks 
up or down the shore in front of the town, the eye is 
filled with the spectacle of one or two hundred narrow 
bridges and bathing-houses, built on the water. At even- 
ing and other bathing-hours, these bridges "in the season" 
are filled with ladies and children and servants, going to 
and from the baths ; the former grotesquely arrayed in 
long waistless robes of calico or gingham, and their faces 
concealed by horrid hoods or veils. At such hours, 
gentlemen are tabooed the baths ; but they have their 
time too. Nothing is thought of, or spoken of in summer, 
but bathing. "Have you bathed to-day?" takes the 
place of "How do you do?" in other places. Not to 
bathe daily is to be voted out of society. 

The school-girls go to the bath in merry parties at 
day-dawn, and frights they look in their awkward, loose 
bathing gear. I am told these misses swim like ducks, 
and have been out as far as a buoy in the channel, a 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME/ 499 

quarter of a mile beyond the bath house. But this is 
now forbidden, as a young lady from Mobile, last summer, 
being too venturesome, and not yet as skillful a swimmer 
as her companions, in following them out became wearied 
and sank. Two of her companions, both a year younger 
than herself, but good swimmers, bravely dove down and 
brought her to the surface, and sustained her until they 
regained footing. 

It must be laborious swimming in those heavy saturated 
robes which the bathers wear. I never had courage to 
go beyond the latticed fence of the bath house; and 
then I am afraid that some ugly fish, crab, or "fiddler" 
will bite my feet ! Yet bathing is a luxury ; and some 
of the citizens bathe before every meal, all summer 
long. 

We remain here a week longer, and then proceed to 
Mobile on our way north to pass the summer. 

Yours truly, 

Kate. 



500 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 



LETTER LXVI. 

Mobile, Alabama, 1855. 

My Dear Mr. : 

This lovely Southern metropolis has heen our sojourn 
for a week past, and has presented so many attractions 
both to me and my husband, that, were we not desirous 
of being in New York early in June, we should yield to 
the solicitation of many kind friends and our own wishes, 
and enjoy its refined hospitality for some days longer. 

The Mobileans are genuine Southerners by birth and 
feeling ; that is, this city is not made up, like New Orleans, 
of strangers, but mainly of those who are '^.to the manor 
born." It reminds me more of Charleston, South 
Carolina, m this respect; and gives, like that elegant 
city, a true representation of Southern manners. . 

We left the delightful watering place. Pass Christian, 
and by a reverse course towards New Orleans met and 
boarded another steamer, the Oregon, at the Lake wharf, 
and so came hither, running across the lakes by moon 
and star-light. We passed late at night Round Island, 
celebrated as the rendezvous of the Filibusteros three 
years ago. It now lay huge and black upon the horizon, 
a league off, looking like Behemoth asleep. Around us 
gleamed three or four light-houses, penciling the water's 
rippling face with slender lines of golden threads. Over 
us glittered the thousand worlds of glory, which we call 
stars. In the west, Orion had just sheathed in the wave 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 501 

his "bright, star-gcmmcd sword. The moon walked in 
brightness high above the horizon, and seemed to glory 
in her beauty and purity. 

My husband and I walked the deck till late, enjoying 
the sea-Avind, for one never takes cold at sea. Such a fresh 
breeze on land would have chilled me to the heart. But 
bonnetless and shawlless, I continued on deck till mid- 
night. As we were about to go to our room, a dark 
object, over which seemed to hover a cloud of snow, was 
visible ahead. As we came nearer, I made out the shape 
of a schooner, her white sails shining in the moon, while 
her black hull was in shadovr. 

" Ilelm-a-port !" was the quick order from some one 
on deck. 

The steamer abruptly changed her straightforward 
course, and steered round the vessel, but so near as to 
create no little commotion on board of her. We passed 
so near that I could have tossed my fan upon her quarter 
deck, where stood a man vfith a pipe, uttering strange 
oaths, instead of blessings at his escape. In a few 
minutes, the little vessel was mino-lino^ with the ob- 
scurity of night in the distance, and soon disappeared 
altogether. 

At four o'clock in the morning I was aroused by per- 
sons talking on the "guard," near our window; and on 
looking out found we w^ere moving through a narrow 
pass, and close to us was a dwelling house, built on a 
small island of sand. The cocks were crowing, (among 
them a horrid, hoarse, bellowing Shanghai,) dogs barking, 
men shouting, and the water dashing and splashing against 
the little island as we slowly shoved our way through. 
The chambermaid told me that this picturesque place, this 



502 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

"Half-way House," in the Gulf, was called "Grass 
Patch." I wondered at the appellation, since blade of 
grass on this sand-bank there was not one ! But the 
captain the next morning enlightened us, bj calling it 
" Grant's Pass," so named from the proprietor. We had 
a pleasant laugh, of course, at the transmogrification of 
the name in the mouth of our kind and very civil cham- 
bermaid. 

Just at sunrise we came in sight of the shipping in 
the " Lower bay" — for you must know that Mobile city is 
thirty-five miles up from the Gulf, on a narrow " Dela- 
w^are-sort-of-a-bay" of its own. This bay being too 
shallow for large cotton ships, they anchor below here in 
the " Roads," and their freight is brought down to them 
in tug steamers, or Bay boats. This fleet consisted of 
nearly a hundred ships and barks, and had a fine ap- 
pearance, extending for a mile or two in length. To and 
from its anchorage plied the smoking Bay steamers, and 
among them sailed a graceful cutter, the vigilant watcher 
of the coast. We subsequently met the captain of the 
latter, Douglas Ottinger, in the city, where his charming 
family reside. He is a remarkably " fine appearance 
of a man," and an accomplished gentleman and sailor. 
He is w^ell known to the world by his humane invention 
of the Life Car, commonly called "Francis's," which has 
saved so many hundreds of the lives of the shipwrecked. 
To have invented and left this " car of life" to the world 
is honor enough for any man to achieve. Francis was 
only its builder. It should be called "The Ottinger 
Car;" for Congress has formally recognized his right as 
inventor. 

Our trip up the Bay of Mobile was truly delightful. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 503 

The morning was cloudless, tLe wind cool from the south, 
the shores green, and dotted here and there with villas ; 
the water lively with vessels of all kinds, moving on 
everj possible course, and our steamer fleet, and passing 
everything with a sort of quiet indifference, that made 
us feel like conquerors. 

These lake boats from Mobile to New Orleans are su- 
perior to any I have sailed on, either in Europe or this 
country. The two I have been on, the Cuba and Oregon, 
are elegant and commodious, with attentive servants, 
"excellently good living," that would gratify Mens. 
Ude. The captain's civil courtesy to us all most favora- 
bly impressed me, and led me to reflect how little civility, 
and smiles, and courtesy cost, and how long they remain 
upon the memory, and make a boat popular; while the 
absence of these has a contrary effect. 

The captain is a Maine man — one of those enterpris- 
ing Portland seamen who have carried the star-spangled 
banner into the farthest corners of the globe. His fine 
face, his respectable gray hairs, and affable manner, pre- 
sented as fine a portrait of an experienced captain (sailor 
and gentleman in one) as we ever encounter. 

After breakfast we came in sight of Mobile. The 
captain, as we sailed up, was kind enough to point out 
to my husband the several watering places in the shores, 
such as '^ Point Clear," the Cape May of the South ; 
kept by Chamberlain, formerly of the Revere House, 
Boston, and a resort of the elite of Mobile ; Hollywood, 
a charming looking retreat, crowded in summer ; besides 
others equally beautiful. I marvel, with such delightful 
retreats so near their city, that the Mobileans should 
ever go North ! It is an homage the South pays the 



504 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

North uselessly ; and this year few will proceed North, 
I am told, as hard times have rendered Lilliputian purses 
indispensable, jingling with gold dollars instead of eagles. 

The appearance of Mobile from the steamer did not 
strike me as interesting. Its approach is disfigured by 
marshy land, covered with old logs, and the forests crowd 
close upon the city. But, as we drew nearer, the towers 
and spires had a pretty effect ; though the outward as- 
pect of the city, from its level site, is far from giving a 
stranger a just idea of its real elegance and many at- 
tractions. There was a good display of shipping at the 
wharves, vessels of light draughts, and a fine view of 
steamers, taking in and discharging cotton, the great 
staple — the mighty pivot upon which the business of this 
city of 30,000 inhabitants revolves. 

We took lodgings at the Battle House, which a week's 
experience assures me equals the favorite "New York" 
or the Eevere House. In a word, it is a first rank 
American hotel. The only drawback is Irish servants. 
I can never understand them, nor they me, and this ir- 
ritates their natural quickness, and they sometimes become 
exceedingly disagreeable. Southerners do not know ex- 
actly how to address servants of their own color ; and 
being unaccustomed to them, prefer hotels where they 
are not. But here they are better drilled and more civil 
than I ever knew them to be. The price of the hire of 
colored servants here is so great that, probably, white 
servants are employed from motives of economy. The 
proprietors have been very assiduous and polite to make 
us comfortable, and we feel as much at home as if we 
were prince and princess in our own palace. 

For the present, au revoir. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 505 



LETTER LXVII. 



My Dear Mr. : 

There is an indescribable softness in this Southern 
clime, a delicious indolence in its atmosphere, that, with 
as bright suns and as soft zephyrs, are unknown in the 
North. This dreamy air indisposes one to exertion; and 
even to dress for dinner is an heroic effort. 

A dozen times I have approached my escritoire, and 
taken up my pen, to lay it down again, as if it were too 
heavy for my fingers. When I do not go to my desk, I 
sit and look at my paper and pen, that await me, and 
reproach my idleness. It is so difficult to overcome this 
inertia. If I could only muster resolution of mind enough 
to make a beginning, I could go on very nicely to the 
end; but the first word — the breaking of the ice — Mo 
labor est. 

I put this Latin in on purpose to take the occasion to 
irform you that in my last but one "Needle," you printed 
tli e inscription over the church door in Pass Christian, 
all wrong, and make me (if I am a lady) responsible for 
the barbarous word which your printer substituted for 
what I wrote. Perhaps the mischievous urchin thought 
any thing would do for lady's Latin. Please let your 
readers know that the word should read, 



506 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OB, 

"DOCTORi gentium;" 

The word printed in place of the last may be Jap- 
anese, but it is not Latin — even feminine Latin. 

We leave here to-morrow en route to Montgomery, the 
elegant capital of Alabama. This city has been less de- 
scribed than any Southern one, yet possesses attractions 
few possess. I am delighted with the society of Mobile. 
The refined hospitality and cordial attention my husband 
and myself have received from its citizens have quite won 
our hearts. Mobile is peculiar as being a truly Southern 
city, its principal families being born here ; and, also, for 
being a strictly commercial metropolis. The "aristo- 
cracy" here, as this word goes, consists of its merchant 
princes and their families. The merchant here is " a 
lord." The superb villas, the palatial mansions lining 
its noble streets, the elegant country seats that adorn 
the suburbs, are occupied almost exclusively by mer- 
chants. 

In other Southern cities reside many opulent planters, 
whose estates lie in the interior. These gentlemen 
usually give the tone and take the lead of society in such 
cases; and this is particularly so in Charleston and 
Savannah. But the principal pursuit here being com- 
merce, like the merchants of Genoa, the commercial men 
of Mobile are the princes of the social empire. You will, 
of course expect to find among them intelligence, educa- 
tion, refinement of manners, and all the social savoir faire 
of the higher order of American society. You will not 
be disappointed. 

We have found the Mobileans among the most elegant 
people we have ever associated with. Many families it 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 507 

is my happiness to know are not surpassed in high- 
breeding and truly elevated character by the best class 
of English society ; and this is saying a great deal ; for I 
look upon the best society in England as the best in the 
world. 

The medical profession and the bar and the pulpit 
have also prominent men, and exert their influence ; but 
these members combined are a fraction compared Avith 
the mercantile gentlemen who, of course, give tone to, 
and lead society. 

The maritime position of Mobile, with one foot upon 
the Gulf, and one hand grasping a quiver of rivers — the 
Alabama, Bigbee, Warrior, and lesser ones — determines 
its commercial character. These rivers flow for hundreds 
of miles, through the richest cotton region of the South, 
and bear annually to the quay of the city, cotton from 
five to six millions of dollars in value ; while half that 
sum in amount is returned by her merchants in supplies 
to the planters and towns along their banks. In the 
bay, a fleet of from sixty to a hundred cotton ships 
carrying the flags of Great Britain, Bremen, France, 
Sweden, Denmark, await to take on board this vast 
amount of cotton, and convey it to the ports of their re- 
spective nations. 

Cotton is, therefore, the circulating blood that gives 
life to the city. All its citizens are interested in this 
staple, from the princely merchant, to whom the globe 
with its ports is a chessboard on which he is ever making 
his intelligent moves, to the poor cobbler, whose round 
lapstone is Ids world. A failure in a crop of cotton, 
would cast a cloud over every brow in this city ; for the 
great cotton merchant, lacking his princely gains, could 



508 THE SUNNY south; or, 

not build, nor employ, nor pay ; for the merchant is the 
fountain of money — the source of dollars and cents, 
that flow down from the stream of his own prosperity 
through all the lesser channels, as a reservoir upon an 
elevation communicates its fulness to a hundred pipes, 
and these to a thousand lesser ones, till, at the farthest 
extremity, the slave at the hydrant fills his gourd and 
quenches his thirst. The merchants are the reservoirs, 
and if they are not full, all suffer below them. 

There is one of the finest streets I have ever seen 
which intersects this city for two miles. It is a broad, 
smooth, almost imperial avenue, lined chiefly by the 
abodes of the "merchant nobles." In one of these re- 
sides Madame Le Yert. At present she is making the 
tour of Southern Europe, and will visit Constantinople, 
and, perhaps, "look in" upon the Crimea ere she re- 
turns. This lady is the daughter of a former governor 
of Florida, and was celebrated as Miss Octavia Walton, 
before her marriage with Dr. Le Vert, an eminent phy- 
sician of this city, for her rare beauty of mind and 
person. Without question, she is one of the most ac- 
complished women of America, with powers of pleasing 
and winning hearts and captivating all who know her, 
that is rarely possessed. Lady Blessington was emi- 
nently gifted in this way, and Madame Le Yert is 
scarcely less wonderfully endowed, if the half I hear of 
her be true ; but, perhaps, I ought not to compare with 
such a person as the Countess of Blessington — knowing 
her life as we do — a pure and elevated character like 
Madame Le Yert. It is only in their personal fascina- 
tions and varied accomplishments, that their names 
should be placed on the same page. Here Madame Le 



THE SOUTIIERNEIl AT HOME. 509 

Vert seems truly to be idolized. This is her liome^ and 
all know her and speak of her in the most enthusiastic 
and affectionate manner. Even the ladies seem to be 
■wholly without envy when they mention her, and cheer- 
fully accord to her the high social position she holds. 
The Mobile gentlemen all seem to speak of her with 
pride, and a feeling of personal regard, that I was de- 
lighted to witness. Truly she must be a happy woman 
who thus wins all hearts, disarms envy by her sweetness 
of disposition, and commands homage by her talents. A 
French gentleman, speaking to me of her, said, with 
rapture : — 

" She can speak five languages well, and I have seen 
her converse at the same time with a Spanish, German, 
and French gentleman, around her, answering, question- 
ing, and holding lively conversation with each in his own 
tongue, and with a precision of pronunciation and ele- 
gance of phraseology remarkable." 

To the poor, I am told, she is very kind ; and stops in 
the street to speak with the humblest widow, and affec- 
tionately inquire after her needs. To end my account 
of her, I will say that of fifty people I have heard speak 
of Madame Le Vert, I heard not one syllable of envy, or 
one word unkind. She seems to have the art of making 
every body love her. Every body regretted we could 
not see her ; for, not to see Madame Le Vert, they seemed 
to feel was not seeing Mobile. I am told that an amus- 
ing incident occurred here, of which the heroine was a 
very accomplished person, who came here, representing 
herself as an English lady of high rank, with letters of 
introduction to Madame Le Vert, from some of her 
noble friends in England. The "lady" played her card 



510 THE SUNNY south; or, 

well for a few dnys, fairly imposing upon the hospitable 
frankness of this Southern people, (who are the most de- 
ficient in suspicion of any people in the world,) and re- 
ceiving no little attention. But detected in some pecu- 
lation of jewelry from a fashionable jeweler's, and bor- 
rowing money from half a dozen gentlemen and ladies, 
her true character was speedily developed, and leaving 
behind several fashionable calls unreturned, she suddenly 
disappeared on board of a vessel bound to New York. 
She was highly accomplished, played wonderfully on the 
piano, sang like Sontag, and danced in the extreme of 
fashion. She said she knew Lamartine, Dickens, Bul- 
wer, D 'Israeli — every great personage ; passed a week 
at Idlewild with Mr. Willis ; three weeks at the house of 
the millionaire, George Law, as his guest ; — indeed, she 
was traveling through the United States with the inten- 
tion of writing an impartial book, which would correct 
the erroneous impressions her frieiids, " the nobility in 
England" held towards this wonderful empire. 

Her letters of introduction proved to be forged, as 
was apparent, I was told, on comparing her handwriting 
proper with these epistles. How degrading to our sex 
to see a woman, evidently highly educated, and capable 
of conferring honor upon it, descend so low as to go from 
one fashionable hotel to another through the land as a 
swindler — a ehevaliere d'industrie! This woman, who 
was about thirty-five, spoke French fluently, and played 
so well, that Gottschalk, who was, at the time, in the 
same hotel, hearing her in the drawing-room, pronounced 
her performance on the piano superior to any woman's he 
ever heard ! With such talents, which, rightly used, 
would command an independent income, how can a woman 



THE SOUTIIEENER AT HOME. 511 

tlius deceive and wickedly act ? for I have always asso- 
ciated with education and talents at least the feelings and 
character of a true lady. 

Doubtless this "Countess" Madame Whyte* will yet 
be heard of in New York, where "distinguished for- 
eigners" are sought after with a perseverance and 
homage quite in antagonism with the genius of republi- 
cans. 

The environs of Mobile are charming. Some of the 
roads for a league west are lined with country houses 
adorned with parterres ; and few houses are without the 
greatest variety of shade trees. Orange trees abound; 
but the live oak everywhere rears its majestic Alp of 
foliage, casting beneath shade broad enough to shelter 
froDi the sun a herd of cattle. This tree is always " a 
picture" in the scenery — a study for the artist. It com- 
bines the grandeur of the English oak with the grace of 
the American elm. There are superb groups of them in 
and about this city. They shade the lawns and give 
dio-nity to the mansions that lift their roofs above them. 
The drives to Spring Hill and the Bay Road are the 
favorite avenues of the Mobileans. The former leads to 
a fine elevation, two leagues from the city, and com- 
manding a view of it and of the beautiful bay. It is 
covered with the suburban retreats of the Mobile mer- 
chants, whose families generally retire here for the 
summer, if a northern tour does not tempt them. The 
Bay Road is a delightful drive for four miles, with the 
open bay on one side and villas and woodlands on the 
other. We enjoyed both of these drives very much. 
We constantly met or passed carriages, containing ladies 
* Subsequently appeared as the Authoress of John Halifax. Ed. 



512 THE SITXNY SOTTTIi; OR, 

without bonnots, find a1p<o saw fi groat number of eques- 
trians ; for Southerners are more fond of the saddle than 
a seat in a carriage. The beauty of the ladies is shown 
to best advantage on an evening drive; and I must say, 
that I have never seen so much true "Southern" loveli- 
ness, of the sunny dark eye, oval face, golden brown 
hair, and indescribably rich complexion, (rich without 
color,) as here. 

This city is deservedly celebrated for its beautiful 
women, and especially the beauty of its girls under six- 
teen. The men have made a favorable impression upon 
me for intelligence and frank manner; and they dress 
well, especially the middle-aged citizens — even better 
than the young men. The ladies dress with the most 
lavish expense, and yet with taste, never following a 
fashion to its excess, but stopping within it; and this 
good sense and taste is a fine trait in Southern women. 
Many Northern ladies are apt to keep by the side of 
Fashion, if not to get a step ahead of her. Wealth 
without refinement always dresses as far as Fashion 
dresses her lay-figure; but refined wealth stops this side 
of the extreme. 

I may write one more letter from this charming city, 
and then we proceed northward. 

Kate. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 513 



LETTER LXVIII. 

An Inn in Virginia, June, 1855. 



My Dear Mr. : 

This is written in an old fashioned country Inn, in 
tlie heart of the Old Dominion, where we are sojourning 
for a week. It is now ten days since we left the plea- 
sant city of Mobile, which I shall always embalm in my 
memory with the sweetest spices of affection, for the 
kindness I received there from so many dear friends. 
If I were disposed to be personal, I could make my letter 
brilliant with the names of those esteemed people who 
extended towards me the hospitable courtesies and grace- 
ful amenities of which I was the unworthy object. My 
husband is charmed with the place, and has half a mind 
to live there during the winters, which I am told are de- 
lightful. In Mobile I had the pleasure of seeing the 
celebrated Dr. Nott, who, in conjunction with Mr. Cairo 
Gliddon, has published a work to show that the arithmetic 
of Moses was not creditable for a school boy. I hear 
that the work has not overthrown the Bible, although 
bigger than the Bible, and written almost by as many 
men. It overshot itself, and from its very bulk and cost 
will never be read, except by students — and what book 
ever convinced a student? Learned men read books 
only to be confirmed in what they previously believed 
they knew. 



514 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

Dr. Nott very justly, for he is by no means an infidel, 
repudiates the infidel portions of this book (" Types of 
Mankind"); and says he is responsible only for the 
scientifically anatomical and physiological contributions, 
and complains that his confrere, Gliddon, surreptitiously 
inserted, after the MS. had left his hands, into the body 
of the work his own sceptical theories. But Dr. Nott, 
like all persons found in suspicious company, unfortu- 
nately has to suffer for his companionship. He is at the 
head of the medical profession here ; a South Carolinian, 
a man of fine intellect, agreeable manners, and with the 
finished air of a thorough-bred and born gentleman, 
I liked him very much the few moments I was in his 
society. 

We left Mobile for Montgomery at th"^ close of a 
lovely day, and in forty-six hours, after a pleasant sail 
up the romantic Alabama river, reached the stately capi- 
tal of Alabama, Montgomery. It reminds me somewhat 
of Albany, in its location and elevated aspect. On 
board the boat was the venerable Bishop Cobbs, a large., 
heavy man, and advanced in years, but with a face full 
of the spirit of benevolence. He has all the simplicity 
of a pure child, united with the dignity of a Christian 
minister. He resides in this city, and was on his return 
to his family, from whom he had been some time absent, 
on his apostolic mission of "confirming the churches." 

After a day agreeably spent in Montgomery, we took 
the cars for Augusta, Georgia. Our ride was full of in- 
terest. I was annoyed, the first hour or two after starting, 
at having left hanging on a projection of the toilet stand, 
in our room at the hotel, a valuable ring, which encircled 
m£i,ny dej]^rest associations within its. golden periphery. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 515 

My husband made the fact known to tlie conductor, who 
pledged himself that, on his return to Montgomery, in 
the next train, he would go to the hotel and get it, and 
forward it to Washington city by mail. As he would be 
back to the hotel in three or four hours, I consoled my- 
self with all that was left me, hope, and now hope to find 
it in Washington, when we reach there, on Monday ! 
But I mistrust my hopes ; and that the large eyes of the 
Ethiopian maid, who waited on me, have discovered the 
jewelj ri.l that it last Sunday dazzled the eyes and won 
the heart of some sable Csesar or Pompey ! What is 
forgotten at hotels falls natural prizes into the hands of 
the chambermaids, who begin their foray of discovery 
about the room before the lady has reached the last stair 
in her descr .t to the coach. 

It is so provoking to leave (and, of course, lose) things 
traveling. I never yet took a journey without such a 
misfortune. It was either a book half read, and I dying 
with interest to finish it — or a parasol, or a reticule, or 
a glove, (and one can't easily replace gloves, traveling,) 
or a veil, or a ring ! If all ladies leave and lose in the 
sam.e way, lynx-eyed chambermaids in some hotels on 
the great routes of travel can, in a year, obtain stock 
enough to set up a magazin des varietes. I half-suspect 
the minxes of misplacing, in order that travelers may 
not see and so forget ; but yet so misplace, that if they 
are searched or asked for, they may easily be found, and 
all seem to be "accidental." 

My husband quietly says : 

" Kate, it is your fault ! You are careless, and don't 
take proper care, I fear, of your things. Literary peo- 
ple are proverbially indifferent [a great scandal] about 



516 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

mundane matters. If jou don't forget and lose Harry 
on the way I shall be content. It would not be so easy 
to have him mailed on to Washington as your ring, and, 
touching said ring, wife, I am very well satisfied you 
will never see it again." 

" But the conductor pledged his word — and was so de- 
sirous of serving me !" 

" He may do Ids duty ! but the landlord may not take 
the trouble to go to the room for it. You know some 
landlords care little about guests a hundred miles away 
on a railroad. If he ask the servant, she will simply 
say, 'Lor', massa, I neber seed no ring in de room!' 
and so the matter will end !" 

"I hope it will be found!" I said, quite hopelessly; 
and I yet hope it will, for it was the first ring given to 
me by my husband ; and a woman values that gift above 
all others. 

The scenery increased in beauty as we flew on, and I 
soon forgot my loss. As we entered Georgia, we saw 
finer towns, richer agricultural districts, and more 
mountainous scenery. We passed one mountain, like a 
mighty pyramid, lifting its great head more than a thou- 
sand feet above the level country, and visible for hours 
before and after we passed it. The city of Augusta is 
a handsome metropolis, with broad streets, a beautiful 
river (the Savannah), fine churches, but hotels indijBfer- 
ent. Every city should have a Tremont or Astor. These 
hotels have rendered their like, necessities everywhere 
else. Most of the hotels South, except in the large 
cities, are overgrown inns or large taverns. Why, there 
is as much difi'erence between a ''hotel" and a "tavern" 
as between a "yacht" and a "fishing smack !" 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 517 

We were pleased with Augusta, but made but a short 
stay. Columbia is the paradise city of the South. 
Here resides the distinguished novelist and poet, W. 
Gilmore Simms, to whom we had letters, but unfortu- 
nately he was absent. We regretted we could not pay 
our respects to a man of genius, who has conferred such 
distinction on the literature of the South, and of the 
whole Republic. One has to unpack and repack to 
stay in a place two or three days, and it is so much 
trouble to "dress" for a day's sojourn, that one often 
hurries forward, where it would be agreeable to lincrer 
for a few days, as it would have been here. On 
our way from Augusta we delayed a day to visit a 
friend's rice plantation, and thence took the cars to 
Charleston. 

This is a city Southerners are very proud of, and with 
good cause. But it is the people more than the houses 
and "scenery" that makes Charleston so agreeable to 
strangers. The Battery is a charming promenade, but 
there are few handsome streets. 

The residences have a respectable, substantial, home- 
like air about them, and universally are buried in the 
shade of tropical trees. The finest building is the 
Military Academy, erected for training South Carolina 
youth to the chivalrous accomplishment of arms. "Nul- 
lification" is a word fast growing into disuse, as it 
has ceased to have meaning. This State is as true to 
the Confederacy as the brightest star in our Federal 
standard. 

The proposed superb monument to Mr, Calhoun (the 
Demosthenes of the New World) is not yet erected! 
Much as cotemporarics admire a mighty genius risin"" 



518 THE SUNNY SOUTH: OR, 

and culminating Avitliin tlieir own horizon, they are never 
the people who raise the noblest mementoes to him ! It 
is tlio succeeding generation which is the true echo of a 
great man's fame. Fifty years hence, Webster, Clay, 
Calhoun, will be more honored than they now are, and 
that age will erect to them the colossal plinths which 
the men of their own day neglect. Centuries after Crom- 
well and Joan d'Arc lived, even at this day, magnificent 
statues are erected to their fame. 

As the glories that surround the heads of the noble 
Triumviri, "Calhoun, Webster, and Clay," increase in 
splendor with time, the higher and grander will rise the 
monuments that men will build up of stone and marble, 
to their mighty names I Whatever South Carolina does 
now in honor of her idol, the whole Kepublic will later 
do more nobly as a national tribute to his intellectual 
greatness ; and what our mighty Inter-oceanic Republic 
will do, will later still be done by the whole civilized 
world! for the glory of the names of these three men, 
like those of Cicero, Demosthenes, and Calus Csesar, 
shall be claimed as the common heritage of the round 
earth ; and in Paris, London, Naples, Vienna, St. Peters- 
burg, and Constantinople, statues and monuments shall 
likewise be erected to them; for godlike genius like theirs 
has no country, no other bounds than those of the globe's 
circumference. 

We left Charleston with regret, after a day's sojourn, 
and part of which was spent in a visit to Sullivan's 
Island, an hour's sail down the harbor. This is a 
charming spot for air and bathing and beach-galloping, 
but its "grass" is sand. Several cultivated families 
pass the summer here, and the hotel is a fine structure ; 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 519 

it looks like a theatre turned inside out, with the gal- 
leries running all round its exterior. Commander In- 
graham's family reside here. I felt like paying my 
respects to a man who has contributed abroad so much 
honor to our national name ; but I let propriety subdue 
curiosity, and only satisjfied myself with passing his 
house, hoping to get a glimpse of the " great man of his 
day." 

The young and rich South Carolinians have a peculiar 
manner. They move about quietly, are self-possessed, 
silent or rather taciturn, love to sit and read, are well 
educated, polished in behavior, dress well, cultivate the 
moustache, affect small feet and white hands, and are 
somewhat dilettanti, but yet manly and well-informed; 
are lovers of the poets, have fine libraries, faultless 
riding horses and equipage, wear wide-awake hats, and 
love indolence and ease. Most of them have seen 
Europe, but prefer South Carolina ! They are proud and 
aristocratic, and do not feel particularly honored to shake 
hands with a traveling lord, and in England are haughtier 
than England's nobles. 

They are expert fencers, superb billiard-players, 
splendid riders when their indolence will let them put 
their blooded horses to their full flight ; fond of hunting, 
unerring with the rifle, have practiced with the duelling 
pistol, and have knowledge of military matters ! Under 
all their calm and indolent exterior, lies all the fire 
and energy of their prototype, Calhoun; and to insult 
them is infinitely perilous, though they never seek a 
quarrel. I think they are the most finished gentlemen 
(when they reach middle life) in the world ! My husband 



520 THE SUNNY south; or, 

says he will write for me (perhaps) a description of the 
ladies. 

We leave this Inn direct for Washington! Shall I 
find my ring there ? 

Yours, 
Kate. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 521 



My Dear Mr. 



LETTER LXIX. 

Washington City. 



My last letter was dated from " an old Inn" in Vir- 
ginia. Since then we have come on to this city of 
"magnificent edifices;" for the old "magnificent dis- 
tances" are superbly filled up with noble buildings. 

I must say a word about that old Virginia Inn. It 
was the most comfortable "home," not to be in one's 
own, I ever dwelt in. It stood in a broad, green valley, 
many miles long, and from the Inn the country gently 
sloped to circumenclosing hills, wooded all over with 
massive masses of green forest. The vale itself was a 
valley of farms, large, and wealthy-looking, with hos- 
pitable-appearing farm-houses in the bosom of each, and 
each with its park of woodland ; and the stage road to 
the Sulphur Springs, (the "Saratoga" of southern aris- 
tocracy) of a light broTvn color, and smooth as a race 
course, wound meanderingly through its bosom. 

The Inn stood in the centre of this agricultural scene. 
It was a large, rambling, old Virginia mansion house, and 
once belonged to a family of the old regime, one of the 
proverbial (and in this case truly so) " FIRST FAMI- 
LIES" of Virginia. The original proprietor was a 
cavalier of Charles the Second, and was a large land- 
holder under the crown. But the revolution, which de- 



522 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

strojed tlic stately law of primogeniture, divided and 
subdivided among half a dozen equal heirs his regal do- 
mains, until within the present generation, the once no- 
ble estate, diminished to two hundred acres and a hand- 
ful of slaves, and the lands worn out, came into the hands 
of the long baronial line of the Bodleys. The gentle- 
man inheriting, finding his harvest would not maintain 
the estate, and that money must be realized in some way 
from his patrimony, had the good sense (refined and edu- 
cated a Virginian as he is) to convert his paternal man- 
sion into an "Inn." Situated on the great road of 
travel, and ofi'ering from its imposing exterior, (ancient 
yet respectable,) temptations to the comfort-loving traveler, 
it soon became the aristocratic resort of touring Virgin- 
ians, and the excellent proprietor (the descendant of a 
lord become a lamdlord) has become independent. 

Happy would many a Virginia gentleman of the "first 
families" be, if he could turn his decaying mansion into 
an Inn of profit ! Numerous, very, are the old estates 
gone to decay, scattered over the Old Dominion, w^herein 
genteel poverty dwells, with the prideful recollections of 
ancestral name and honors. The improvident manner 
in which the old Virginia proprietors wasted their lands 
with the soil-consuming tobacco, has impoverished half 
of their descendants. The present proprietors, unable 
to maintain their aristocratic estate, part one after an- 
other with their family servants, whose price goes to 
maintain what the wretched crops ought to do, or they 
leave their barren heritages, and with their servants seek 
the West or South, and there buying new land at gov- 
ernment price, build up a new, young "Virginia family" 
in Texas, Alabama, or Mississippi. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 523 

So necessary is the annual decimation of slaves by 
sale to support these old decayed families, that it has be- 
come a settled trade for men whose occupation is to buy 
slaves, to travel through the " Old Dominion," from es- 
tate to estate, to purchase the negroes that the necessi- 
ties of these genteel families (who have nothing left of 
their ancestral glory, but the old mansion, half in ruins, 
and the wide, barren fields scarcely yielding bread) 
compel them to dispose of, whenever opportunity of- 
fers. The slave-buyer is seldom disappointed, however 
grand the exterior of the baronial looking house to 
w^hich he rides up. Here he gets one, there another, 
and in a few weeks he enters Lynchburg, Alexandria, or 
Richmond with a hundred or more, whom the necessities 
of the first families have compelled to be sold. Hun- 
dreds of such buyers are ever traversing the state, and 
the markets of the South and West are almost wholly 
supplied with slaves, through the res angusta domi, in 
the Old Dominion. 

From this view of the facts (and facts they certainly 
are), it would appear that Virginia is gradually coming 
to free farming and the slow abandonment of slave cul- 
tivature. As it is, slaves are raised here more as a 
marketable and money-returning commodity than for 
their productive labor. 

It is one of the most beautiful states in the Union. 
Its citizens, with truth, boast a nobler ancestry from 
England's halls, than any other ! Its character for in- 
telligence, genius, hospitality, and refinement, is not sur- 
passed anywhere. A Virginia gentleman (poor, and 
living on starved lands though he may be) is the gentle- 
man of the age ! Washington, her son, has, for ever- 



524 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 

more, ennobled lier as tlie birth-place of heroes. She 
has given to the Republic the majority of her presidents ! 
and to the National Legislative halls, the noblest minds 
of our race. The grand scenery of her valleys, moun- 
tains, forests, and smiling fields, the diversity of her 
climate, the noble character of her citizens, ought to 
make her "the Paradise of America," as Sir Walter 
Raleigh called it, and therefore named it, in honor of his 
worshipful "Eve," (Queen Bess,) Virginia! 

Our Inn is worthy of having for its host a descendant 
of the chivalrous Borderleighs, (now modernized in spell- 
ing to Bodleys,) one of the old North of England nobles. 
He loses none of his Virginia stateliness or self-respect 
in playing Boniface. He retains his self-respect and is 
therefore still a gentleman ; and we feel that he is one. 
His vast parlor is hung round with old portraits of his 
Virginia and British ancestors. The bed-rooms look so 
respectable with their black oak and carved furniture, 
the panneled wainscotting, old-fashioned testers, and oval 
mirrors, that one seems to be carried back into the days 
of William and Mary. Some of the furniture is two hun- 
dred years old, and was brought over to Jamestown from 
England. A beaufet is in the dining room, curiously 
shaped and carved, which belonged to Sir Walter Raleigh, 
he who sacrificed a cloak, hoping to get a crown. Queen 
Bess was a terrible flirt ! She had more joy in tyrann- 
nizing over the noble hearts of the brave men about her, 
than in reigning over her realm of England. 

There is a portrait of her all begrimed with smoke, in 
the sitting room, which our courteous and high born host 
says, once belonged to the ancient Claiborne or Clayborn 
family, a race of statesmen and soldiers. 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 525 

From the Inn one has a delightful prospect of fields, 
woods, intervales, mountains, and a shining river. A 
broad lawn is before the house, across which is a smooth, 
half-moon shaped road, along which the stage-coach 
dashes up to the door. 

Such a table as one has here ! Never were travelers so 
banqueted. At breakfast, coffee and cream like liquid 
gold ; six kinds of bread, each hot, as bread always is in 
the South, and all delicious with butter rich as honey ; 
amber-colored honey also, with a fragrance as if gathered 
from the flowers that bloom on Hymettus ! Then steaks, 
so juicy and flavorable ; broiled chickens just delicately 
crisped and more delicately buttered ; fresh fish from a 
pond, nicely browned to a turn; ham the tint of a blood 
peach ; sliced bread and butter, and I know not what 
other delicacies. Our dinners are unapproachable by 
any city ''Astor;" and for tea such sweetmeats, such 
blackberries and cream, such delicious bread! — but you 
will think I am an epicure truly if I go on. Suffice it 
to say that we remained there a week (for my husband 
is a quiet epicure in his way), and took stage for a town 
where we could strike the railroad. 

We flew through Petersburg, paused to breathe in 
Richmond, which has flowing at its side a wild, rock- 
filled river of a hundred rapids, which we crossed at a 
dizzy height, looking down upon it from the car windows 
with that thrill of the nerves which gazing from a great 
height irresistibly causes. 

"We ascended the Potomac and passed Mount Vernon. 
I was previously told 'that when we came opposite to it, 
the bell of the boat would be struck thirteen times, not 
only in homage to the Great Deliverer of the "Thirteen 



526 THE SUNNY SOUTH. 

Republics," but also to notify passengers when the boat 
came near the political Mecca of Americans. But no 
bell sounded — no notice was taken by the steamer of 
the spot, which no British war-ship passes without 
lowering its colors and firing a salute. We Americans 
seem to be destitute of all suggestive imagination and 
reverential associations. 

We shall remain in the Capital a few days, and thence 
hasten to New York to hit the steamer; for we reside 
the next two years abroad. This is the last Needle, 

therefore, you will receive from me, Mr. , and which 

must terminate forever our correspondence. The request 
of so many of my friends I feel must be cheerfully com- 
plied with; and while in Philadelphia, I shall make (if 
possible) arrangements with a publisher, to issue my poor 
writings in one or two volumes under the title of 

"THE SUNNY SOUTH: 

By Kate Conyngham." 

Farewell. 



BOOKS 

Published by G. G. Evans, 

439 Chestnut St., Philadelphia. 



T. S. ARTHUR'S WORKS. 

The following Books are by T. S. Arthur, the well-known author, of whom 
it has been said, "that dying, he has not written a word he would wish to 
erasb." They are worthy of a place in every household. 

ARTHUR'S SKETCHES OF LIFE AND CHARACTER 

Boyal 12mo. vol. of over 400 pages, beautifully Illustrated, and 
bound in the best English muslin, gilt. Price $1.25. 

LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF REAL LIFE. 

With an Autobiography and Portrait of the Author. Over 500 
pages. Royal 12rao.,fme tinted Engravings. Price $1.25. 

TEN NIGHTS IN A BxA.R-ROOM, and what I saw there. 

This powerfully-written work, one of the best by its popular 
AUTHOR, has met with an immense sale. It is a large 1 2mo., 
illustrated with a beautiful Mezzotint Engraving, by Sartain; 
printed on fme white paper, and bound in the best English 
muslin, gilt back. Price, $1.00. 

GOLDEN GRAINS FROM LIFE'S HARVEST-FIELD. 

Bound in gilt back and sides, cloth, with a beautiful Mezzotint 
engraving. i2mo. Price $1.00. 

WHAT CAN WOMAN DO. 

l2mo., with Mezzotint engraving. Price $1.00. 

« Our purpose is to show, in a series of Life Pictures, what woman can do, 
afl veil for good aa for evil." 

ANGEL OF THE HOUSEHOLD, and other tales. 

Cloth, izmov., with Mezzotint engraving. Price $1.00, 



LIST OF BOOKS PUM.ISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 



ARTHUR'S HOME LIBRARY. 

[The following four volumes contain nearly 500 pages each, and are illos* 
trated with fine Mezzotint engravings. Bound in the best manner, and 
gold separately or in seta. They have been introduced into the District, 
Sabbath School, and other Libraries, and are considered on© of the best 
series of the Author.] 

THREE ERAS IN WOMAN'S LIFE. 

Containing Maiden, Wife and Mother. Cloth, I zmo., with Mez- 
zotint engraving. Price, $i.oo. 
" This, by many, is considered Mr. Arthur's best work." 

TALES OF MARRIED LIFE. 

Containing Lovers and Husbands, Sweethearts and Wives, and 

Married and Single. Cloth, i2mo., with Mezzotint engraving. 

Price $i.oo. 

" In this volume maybe found some valuable hints for wives and hus- 
bands, as well as for the young." 

TALES OF REAL LIFE. 

Containing Bell Martin, Pride and Principle, Mary Ellis, Family 

Pride and Alice Melville. Cloth, i2mo., with Mezzotint 

engraving. Price $i,oo. 

" This volume gives the experience of real life by many who found not 
their ideal." 

THE MARTYR WIFE. 

Containing Madeline, the Heiress, The Martyr Wife and Ruined 
Gamester. Cloth, izmo., with Mezzotint engraving. $i.oo 
"Contains several sketches of thrilling interest." 

THE ANGEL AND THE DEMON. 

A Book of Startling Interest. A handsome izmo volume, $i.oo. 

" In this exciting s*,ory, Mr. Arthur has taken hold of the reader's attention 
with a more than usually vigorous grasp, and keeps him absorbed to the end 
of the volum e." 

THE WAY TO PROSPER, 
And other tales. Cloth, i zmo., with engraving. Price $i.oa, 

TRUE RICHES; or WEALTH WITHOUT WINGS, 

And other Tales, Cloth, izmo., with Mezzotint engraving. 
Prif.e, 1 1. GO. 



Lirr OP BOOKS published by G. G. EVANS. 



THE YOUNG LADY AT HOME. 

A Series of Home Stories for American Women. i2mo. $i.oo 
TRIALS AND CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

With 14 Spirited Illustrations. i2mo., cloth. Price |i.oo. 

The range of subjects in this book embrace the grave and instructive, M 
W*L as the agreeable and amusing. No Lady reader familiar with the tnali 
and perplexities incident to Housekeeping-, can fail to recognize many of her 
own experiences, for every picture here presented has been drawn from life, 

THE WITHERED HEART. 

With fine Mezzotint Frontispiece. i2mo.. Cloth. Price |i.oo. 
This work has gone through several editions in England, although pub- 
lished but a short time, and has had the most flattering notices from the 
English Press. 

STEPS TOWARD HEAVEN. 
A Series of Lay Sermons for Converts in the Great Awakening. 
1 2mo., cloth. Price $ i . 00. 

THE HAND BUT NOT THE HEART; 
Or, Life Trials of Jessie Loring. i2mo., cloth. Price, $1.00. 

THE GOOD TIME COMING. 
Large i2mo., with fine Mezzotint Frontispiece. Price, ti. 00. 

LEAVES FROM THE BOOK OF HUMAN LIFE. 
Large i2mo. With 30 illustrations and steel plate. Price $1.00. 
« It includes some of the best humorous sketches of the author." 

HEART HISTORIES AND LIFE PICTURES. 

izmo Cloth. Price $1.00. 

'•'In the preparation of this volume, we have «ndeavored to stow, th»t 
whatever teSds to awaken our sympathies towards others, xs an individual 
benefit as well as a common good." 

SPARING TO SPEND ; or, the Loftons and Pinkertons 

i2mo., cloth. Price |i.oo. 

The purpose of this volume is to exhibit the evilfl that flow torn *e to« 
eommon lack of prudence. 



LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED- BY O. G. EVANS, 



HOME SCENES. 

I2mo. Cloth. Price $i.oo. 

This Book is designed to aid in the work of overcoming what is evil and 
■elfish, that home lights may dispel home shadows. 

THE OLD MAN'S BRIDE. 

I2mo. Cloth. Price $i.oo. 
This is a powerfully written Book, showing the folly of unequal marriages. 

ADVICE TO YOUNG LADIES ON THEIR DUTIES AND 
CONDUCT IN LIFE. 

By T. S. Arthur. A new and greatly enlarged edition, izmo., 
cloth. Steel plate. Price $i.oo. 

ADVICE TO YOUNG MEN ON VARIOUS IMPORTANT 

SUBJECTS. 

By T. S. Arthur. A new and greatly enlarged edition. 1 2mo., 
cloth. Steel plate. Price $i.oo. 

TWENTY YEARS AGO AND NOW. 
By T. S. Arthur, izmo., cloth, mezzotint engraving. Price 
$i.oo 

BIOGRAPHIES. 

LIFE AND EXPLORATIONS OF DR. E. K. KANE, 
And other Distinguished American Explorers. Including Ledyardy 
Wilkes, Perry, &c. Containing narratives of their researches 
and adventures in remote and interesting portions of the Globe. 
By Samuel M. Smucker, LL.D. With a fine Mezzotint Por- 
trait of Dr. Kane, in his Arctic costume. Price $l.oo. 

THE LIFE AND REIGN OF NICHOLAS L, 

Emperor of Russia. With descriptions of Russian Society and 
Government, and a full and complete History of the War in 
the East. Also, Sketches of Schamyl, the Circassian, an- other 
Distinguished Characters. ByS. M. Smucjcer, LL.D. Beautifully 
Illustrated. Over 400 pages, large izmo. Price $1.25. 

THE PUBLIC AND PRIVATE LIFE OF DAN'L WEBSTER, 
Bv Gen. S. P. Lyman, izmo., cloth. Price $1.00. 



.> 



LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 



THE MASTER SPIRIT OF THE AGE. 

THE PUBLIC AND PRIVATE HISTORY OF NAPOLEON 

THE THIRD. 

With Biographical Notices of his most Distinguished Ministers, 
Generals and Favorites. By S. M. Smucker, LL.D. This in- 
teresting and valuable work is embellished with splendid steel 
plates, done by Sartain in his best style, including the Emperor, 
the Empress, Queen Hortense, and the Countess CastigHone. 
400 pages, izmo. Price $1.25. 

MEMOIRS OF ROBERT HOUDIN, 

The celebrated French Conjuror. Translated from the French. 
With a copious Index. By Dr. R. Shelton Mackenzie. This 
book is full of interesting and entertaining anecdotes of the great 
Wizard, and gives descriptions of the manner of performing 
many of his most curious tricks and transformations, izmo., 
cloth. Price ^i.oo. 

LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF DAVID CROCKETT. 

Written by himself, with Notes and Additions. Splendidly illus- 
trated with engravings, from original designs. By George G 
White, izmo., cloth. Price $1.00. 

LIFE AND TIMES OF DANIEL BOONE. 

Including an account of the Early Settlements of Kentucky. By 
Cecil B. Hartley. With splendid illustrations, from original 
drawings by George G. White, izmo., cloth. Price $1.00. 

LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF LEWIS WETZEL. 
Together with Biographical Sketches of Simon Kenton, Benjamin 
Logan, Samuel Brady, Isaac Shelby, and other distinguished 
Warriors and Hunters of the West. By Cecil B. Hartley. 
With splendid illustrations, from original drawings by George 
G. White, izmo., cloth. Price $1.00. 

UFE AND TIMES OF GENERAL FRANCIS MARION, 

The Hero of the American Revolution ; giving full accounts oi 

his many perilous adventures and hair-breadth escapes amongst 

the British and Tories in the Southern States, during the struggle 

for liberty. By W. Gilmore Simms. izmo., cloth. $1.00. 



LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 



UFE OF GENERAL SAMUEL HOUSTON, 

The Hunter, Patriot, and Statesman of Texas. With nine illuj- 
trations. izmo,, cloth. Price $i.oo. 

LIVES OF GENERAL HENRY LEE AND GENERAL 
THOMAS SUMPTER. 

Comprising a History of the War in the Southern Department of 
the United States. Illustrated, i2mo, cloth. Si.oo. 

DARING & HEROIC DEEDS OF AMERICAN WOMEN. 

Comprising Thrilling Examples of Courage, Fortitude, Devoted- 
ness, and Self-Sacrifice, among the Pioneer Mothers of the 
Western Country. By John Frost, LL.D. Price $i.oo. 

LIVES OF FEMALE MORMONS. 

A Narrative of facts Stranger than Fiction. By Metta Victoria 
Fuller. i2mo., cloth. Price $i.oo. 

LIVES OF ILLUSTRIOUS WOMEN OF ALL AGES. 

Containing tne Empress Josephine, Lady Jane Gray, Bea'iricc 
Cenci, Joan of Arc, Anne Boleyn, Charlotte Corday, Zenobia, 
&c., &c. Embellished with Fine Steel Portraits. i2mo., cloth. 
Price $i.oo. 

THE LIVES AND EXPLOITS OF THE MOST NOTED 
BUCCANEERS & PIRATES OF ALL COUNTRIES. 

Handsomely illustrated, i vol. Cloth. Price $i.oo. 

HIGHWAYMEN, ROBBERS AND BANDITTI OF ALL 

COUNTRIES. 

With Colored and other Engravings. Handsomely bound in one 
volume, izmo., cloth. Price $i.oo. 

HEROES AND PATRIOTS OF THE SOUTH; 

Comprising Lives of General Francis Marion, General William 
Moultrie, General Andrew Pickens, and Governor John 
Rutledge. By Cecil B. Hartley. Illustrated, i2mo., cloth. 
Price 1 1. CO. 



LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 



KIT CARSON. 

Life of Christopher Carson, the celebrated Rocky Mountain 
Huntei, Trapper and Guide, with a full description of his 
Hunting Exploits, Hair-breadth Escapes, and adventures with 
the Indians ; together with his services rendered the United 
States Government, as Guide to the various Exploring Expedi- 
tions under Jjhn C. Fremont and others. By Charles Burdett. 
With six illustrations. i2mo., cloth. Price ^i.oo. 

THE LIFE AND TIMES OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

By S. M. Smucker, LL.D., author of " The Life of Thomas 
JefFerson," *' Life of Alexander Hamilton," etc., etc. i2mo., 
cloth, with Steel Portrait. Price $1.00. 

THE LIFE AND TIMES OF HENRY CLAY. 

By S. M. Smucker, LL.D., author of the "Lives of Washington," 
"JefFerson," etc. i2mo., cloth. Steel Portrait. Price $1.00. 

LIFE OF ANDREW JACKSON. 

Containing an Authentic History of the Memorable Achievements 
of the American Army under General Jackson, before New 
Orleans. By Alexander Walker, izmo., cloth. Price Si. 00. 

LIFE OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

By O. L. Holley. With Steel Portrait and six Illustrations. 

izmo., cloth. Price $1.00. 

LIVES OF THE SIGNERS OF THE DECLARATION OF 
AMERICAN INDEPENDENCE. 

By B. J. LossiNG. Steel Frontispiece, and fifty portraits. izmo., 
cloth. Price $1.00. 

LIFE OF CAPT. JOHN SMITH OF VIRGINIA. 
By W. Gillmore Simm3. Illustrated, izmo., cloth. Price, $1 00 

THE THREE MRS. JUDSONS, 

The Female Missionaries. By Cecil B. Hartley. A new and 
carefully revised edition, with steel portraits, i znio. Price, 
$1 00. 



LIST OF BOOKS PUBL.,SHED BY G. G. EVANS. 



INGRAHAM'S THREE GREAT WORKS. 



THE 

Prince of the House of David; 

Ur, Three Years in the Holy City. Being a series of the let- 
ters of Adina, a Jewess of Alexandria, supposed to be sojourning 
in Jerusalem in the days ol" Herod, addressed to her Father a 
wealthy Jew in Egypt, and relating, as if by an eye-witness, all 
the scenes and wonderful incidents in the life of Jejus of Naz- 
areth, from his Baptism in Jordan to his Crucifixion on Calvary 
New edition, carefully revised and corrected by the author. 
Rev. J. H. lN<;RAHArvi, LL D., Rector of Christ Church, and 
St. Thomas' Hall, Holly Springs, Miss. With five splendid 
illustrations, one large izmo., volume, cloth. Price, $i 25. 
Full Gilt sides and edges Price $2.00. 

The same work in German. izmo., cloth. Price, $1.25. 

THE PILLAR OF FIRE; 

Or, Israel in Bondage. Being an account of the Wonderful 
Scenes in the Life of the Son of Pharaoh's Daughter, (Moses). 
Together with Picturesque Sketches of the Hebrews under their 
Task-masters. By Rev. ). H. Ingraham, LL D , author of the 
" Prince of the House of David." With steel Frontispiece. 
Large izmo., cloth. Price, $1 25; the same work, full gilt 
sides and edges. Price, $2 00. 

THE THRONE OF DAVID; 

-om the Consecration of the Shepherd of Bethlehem, to the Re- 
bellion of Prince Absalom Being an illustration of the Splendor, 
Power and Dominion of the Reign of the Shepherd, Poet, 
Warrior, King and Prophet, Ancestor and type of Jesus, address- 
ed by an Assyrian Ambassador, resident at the Court of Jeru- 
salem, to his Lord and King on the Throne of Nineveh; where- 
in the magnificence of Assyria, as well as the magnificence of 
Judea, is presented to the reader as by an eye-witness. By the 
Rev. J. H. Ingraham, LL.D., Rector of Christ Church and 
St. Thomris' Hall, Holly Springs, Miss., author of the "Prince 
of the House of David" and the *' Pillar of Fire." With five 
splendid illustrations. Large i2mo., cloth. Price $1 Z'-^ ; the 
same work, full gilt sides and edges. Price, $2 00. 



r 



LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 



The Sunny South ; 



OR, 



THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 



EMBRACING 



Five years' experience of a Northern Governess in the Land of the 
Sugar and the Cotton. Edited by Professor J. H. Ingraham, 
of Miss. Large izmo., cloth. Price, $i 25. 



A BUDGET OF 

HUMOROUS POETRY, 



COMPRISING 



Specimens of the best and most Humorous Productions of the 
popular American and Foreign Poetical Writers of the day. 
By the author of the ** Book of Anecdotes and Budget of 
Fun." One volume, izmo., cloth Price $1 00. 



The World in a Pocket Book. 

BY 

WILLIAM H. CRUMP. 

NEW AND REVISED EDITION, BROUGHT DOWN TO 

i860. 

This work is a Compendium of Useful Knowledge and General 
Reference, dedicated to the Manufacturer?, Farmers, Merchants, 
and Mechanics of the United States — to all, in short, with whom 
time is money — and whose business avoca'ions render the acqui- 
sition of extensive and diversified information desirable, by the 
shortest possible road. This volume, it is hoped, will be found 
worthy of a place in every household — in every family. It 
may indeed be termed a library in itself Large izmo. Price, 
^1 2 :; . 



JO LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 

THE SPIRIT LAND. 
i2mo., cloth, with Mezzotint Engraving. Price $1.00, 

" These pages are submitted to the public with the counsel of the wii«ct 
•nd best of all ages, that amid the wiley arts of the Adversary, we should cling 
to the word of God, the Bible, as the only safe and infallible guide of Faith 
and Practice." 

THE MORNING STAR ; or. Symbols of Christ. 

By Re\ Wm. M. Thayer, author of " Hints for the Household," 
" Pastor's Holiday Gift,"&c., &c. i2mo., cloth. Price $1.00 

" The symbolical parts of Scriptures are invested with peculiar attractions. 
A familiar acquaintance with them can scarcely fail to increase respect and 
love for the Bible." 

SWEET HOME; or. Friendship's Golden Altar. 

By Frances C. Percival. Mezzotint Frontispiece, izmo., cloth, 
gilt back and centre. Price $1.00. 

"The object of this book is to awaken the Memories of Home — to remind 
as of the old Scenes and old Times." 

THE DESERTED FAMILY ; 

Or, the Wanderings of an Outcast. By Paul Creyton. i zmo., 
cloth. Price $1.00. 

" An interesting story, which might exert a good influence in softening th9 
heart, warming the affections, and elevating the soul." 

ANNA CLAYTON; or, the Mother's Trial 
A Tale of Real Life. izmo., cloth. Price $1.00. 

" The principal characters in this tale are drawn from real life — imagina- 
^on cannot picture deeper shades of sadness, higher or more exquisite joys, 
than Truth has woven for us, in the Mother's Trial." 

" FASHIONABLE DISSIPATION." 

B) Metta V. Fuller. Mezzotint Frontispiece, izmo., bound in 
cloth. Price $1.00. 

THE OLD FARM HOUSE. 

By Mrs. Caroline H. Butler Laing, with b'lx splendid Illustra- 
tions, izmo., cloth. Price $1.00. 



LIST OP BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 1 1 

« TO THE PURE ALL THINGS ARE PURE." 

WOMAN AND HER DISEASES. 

From the Cradle to the Grave ; adapted exclusively to her instruc- 
cion in the Physiology of her system, and all the Diseases of her 
Critical Periods. By Edward H. Dixon, M.D. i2mo. Price 
$i.oo. 

DR. LIVINGSTONE'S TRAVELS AND RESEARCHES 
OF SIXTEEN YEARS IN THE WILDS OF SOUTH 
AFRICA. 

One volume, izmo., cloth, fine edition, printed upon superior 
paper, with numerous illustrations. Price $1.25. Cheap edi- 
tion, price $1.00. 

This is a work of thrilling adrentures and hair-breadth escapes among 
savage beasts, and more savage men. Dr. Livingstone was alone, and unaid- 
ed by any white man, traveling only with African attendants, among different 
tribes and nations, all strange to him, and many of them hostile, and alto- 
gether forming the most astonishing book of travels the world has ever 
seen. All acknowledge it is the most readable book published. 

ANDERSSON'S EXPLORATIONS AND DISCOVERIES. 

Giving accounts of many Pf"'*''ous Adventures, and Thrilling Inci- 
dents, during Four Years' Wanderings in the Wilds of South 
Western Africa. By C. J. Andersson, LL.D., F.R.S. With 
an Introductory Letter, by J. C. Fremont. One volume, izmo., 
cloth. With Numerous Illustrations. Price, $1.25. 

INDIA AND THE INDIAN MUTINY. 

Comprising a Complete History of Hindoostan, from the earliest 
times to the present day, with full particulars of the Recent 
Mutiny in India. Illustrated with numerous engravings. By 
Henry Frederick Malcom. Large izmo., volume of about 
450 pages. Price, $1.25. 

THE UNION TEXT BOOK. 
Containing Selections from the Writings and Speeches of 
Daniel Webster. The .Declaration of Independence, the 
Constitution of the United States, Washington's Farewell Ad- 
dress, &:c., with Steel Portrait. Large i2mo., fJ04 pages. Cloth. 
Price, $1.00. 



12 LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 



SEVEN YEARS IN THE WILDS OF SIBERIA, 

A Narrative of Seven Years' Explorations and Adventures in 
Oriental and Western Siberia, Mongolia, the Kir his Steppes, 
Chinese Tartary, and Part of Central Asia. By Thomas 
William Atkinson. With numerous Illustrations, i zmo., clcth, 
price $1.25, 

SIX YEARS IN NORTHERN AND CENTRAL AFRICA. 

Travels and Discoveries in North and Central Africa, being a 
Journal of an Expedition undertaken undei the auspices of 
H. B. M.'s Government, in the years 1 849-1 855. By Henry 
Barth, Ph. D., D.C.L., Fellow of the Royal Geographical and 
Asiatic Societies, &c., &c. i2mo., cloth, price $1.25. 

THREE VISITS TO MADAGASCAR 

During the years 1853, 1854, 1856, including a journey to the 
Capital ; with notices of the Natural History of the Country 
and of the present Civilization of the People, by the Rev. Wm. 
Ellis, F.H.S., author of "Polynesian Researches." Illustrated 
by engravings from photographs, &c. i2mo., cloth. $1.25. 

CAPT. COOK'S VOYAGES ROUND THE WORLD. 
One volume, i2mo., cloth. Price $1.00. 

BOOK OF ANECDOTES AND BUDGET OF FUN. 

Containing a collection of over One Thousand Laughable Sayings, 
Rich Jokes, etc. i2mo., cloth, extra gilt back, $1.00. 

" Nothing is so well calculated to preserve the healthful action of th« 
human system as a good hearty laugh." 

BOOK OF PLAYS FOR HOME AMUSEMENT. 

Being 2 collection of Original, Altered and well-selected Tragedies, 
Comedies, Dramas, Farces, Burlesques, Charades, Comic Lec- 
tures, etc. Carefully arranged and specially adapted for Private 
Representation, with full directions for Performance. By Silas 
S. Steele, Dramatist. One volume, i 2mo., cloth. Price $1 .00, 



LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 13 

A HISTORY OF ITALY, 

AND THE WAR OF 1859. 

Giving the causes of the War, with Biographical Sketches of Sov- 
eieigns. Statesmen and Military Commanders; Descriptions and 
Statistics of the Country ; with finely engraved Portraits of Loui» 
Napoleon, Emperor of France Frances Joseph, Emperor of 
Austria ; Victor Emanuel, King of Sardinia, and Garribaldi, the 
Champion of Italian Freedom. Together with the official ac- 
counts of the Battles of Montebello, Palestro, Magenta, Maleg- 
nano, Solferino, etc., etc., and Maps of Italy, Austria, and all 
the adjacent Countries, by 

MADAME JULIE DE MARGUERITTES. 

With an introduction by Dr. R. Shelton Mackenzie, one volume, 
i2mo., cloth, price $1.25. 

NOBLE DEEDS OF THE GREAT AND BRAVE OF ALL 
AGES AND NATIONS. 

Selected as examples for the emulation of Youth, with numerous 
Illustrations, izmo.. Cloth, Gilt Back. Price, ^i.oo. 

THE BOOK OF POPULAR SONGS. 

Being a compendium of the best Sentimental, Comic, Negro, Nation- 
al, Patriotic, Military, Naval, Social, Convivial, and Pathetic 
Ballads and Melodies, as sung by the most celebrated Opeia 
Singers, Negro Minstrels, and Comic VocaUsts of the day. 

One volume, izmo., cloth. Price $1.00. 

THE AMERICAN PRACTICAL COOKERY BOOK ; 

Or Housekeeping made easy, pleasant, and econmical in all its 
departments. To which are added directions for setting out 
Tables, and giving Entertainments. Directions for Jointing, 
Trussing, and Carving, and many hundred new Receipts in 
Cookery and Housekeeping. With 50 engravings, i zjiio., 
cloth. Price $1.00. 



l^ LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 



RECORDS OF THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR. 

Containing the Military and Financial Correspondence of distin- 
guished officers; names of the officers and privates of regiments, 
companies and corps, with the dates of their commissions and 
enlistments. General orders of Washington, Lee, and Green ; 
with a list of distinguished prisoners of war ; the time of their 
capture, exchange, etc.; to which is added the half-pay acts of 
the Continental Congress ; the Revolutionary pension laws ; and 
a list of the officers of the Continental army who acquired tha 
right to half-pay, commutation, and lands, &c. By T. W. Saf- 
FELL. Large i2mo., $1.25. 

THE ROMANCE OF THE REVOLUTION. 

being a history of the personal adventures, romantic incidents and 
exploits incidental to the War of Independence — with tinted 
illustrations. Large i2mo., $1.25. 

THE QUEEN'S FATE. 

A talc of the days of Herod. i2mo., cloth, with Steel Illustra- 
tions. $1.00. 

"A recital of events, of an awe-arousing period, in a familiar and interest- 
ing manner." 

« LIVING AND LOVING." 

A collection of Sketches. By Miss Virginia F. Townsend. — 
Large i2mo., with fine steel portrait of the author. Bound in 
cluth. Price Si. 00. 

We might say many things in favor of this delightful publication, but we 
tteem it unnecessary. Husbands should buy it for their wives : lovers should 
buy it fur their sweet-hearts : friends should buy it for their friends. — Godey^a 
Lady''s Book, 

WHILE IT WAS MORNING. 

By Virginia F. Townsend, author of " Living and Loving.** 
i2mo., cloth. Price $1.00. 

THE ANGEL VISITOR ; or. Voices of the Heart. 
l2mo., clolh, with Mezzotint Engraving. Price $1.00. 
" The mission of this volume is to aid in doing good to those in affliction.* 



LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. C. EVANS. 1$ 



THE LADIES' HAND BOOK 

OF 

Fancy and Ornamental Needle-Work. 

COMPRISING 

Full directions with patterns for working in Embroidery, Applique, 
Braiding, Crochet, Knitting, Netting, Tatting, Quilting, Tam- 
bour aud Gobelin Tapestry, Broderie Anglaise, Guipure Work, 
Canvass Work, Worsted Work, Lace Work, Bead Work, 
Stitching, PatcK Work, Frivolite, &c. Illustrated with 262 
Engraved Patterns, taken from original dcbigns. By Miss 
Florence Hartley. One volume, Quarto Cloth. Price, 
$1 25. 



The Ladies' Book of Etiquette, 



AND 



MANUAL OF POLITENESS. 

A Hand Book for the use of Ladies in Polite Society. By 
Florence Hartley. i2mo., cloth. Price, ^i 00. 



The Gentlemen's Book of Etiquette, 



and 



MANUAL OF POLITENESS. 

Being a Complete Guide for a Gentleman's Conduct in all his 
relations toward Society. By Cecil B. Hartley. 12 mo. 
Price, $1 00 



1 6 LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 



LECTURES FOR THE PEOPLE: 

BY THE 

Rev. H. STOWELL BROWN, 

Of the Myrtle Street Baptist Chapel^ Liverfoel^ England. 

First Series, published under a special arrangement with the author. 
With a Biographical introduction by Dr. R. Shelton Mackenzie. 
With a splendidly engraved Steel Portrait. One vol., 414 pages. 
i2mo., cloth. Price $1.00. 

Mr. Brown's lectures fill an important place, for which we have no other 
Isook. The style is clear, the spirit is kind, the reasoning careful, and tha 
argument conclusive. We are persuaded that this book will render more 
good than any book of sermons or lectures that have been published in this 
19th century. — Liverpool Mereury. 

THE HOME BOOK OF HEALTH AND MEDICINE; 

Or, The Laws and Means of Physical Culture, adapted to 
practical use. Embracing a treatise on Dyspepsia, Digestion, 
Breathing, Ventilation, Laws of the Skin, Consumption, how 
prevented; Clothing, Food, Exercise, Rest, &c. By W. A. 
Alcott, M. D. With ^i illustrations. Large izmo. Price, 
$1.25. 

LIFE OF THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE, 

First Wife of Napoleon I. Illustrated with Steel Portraits. •By 
J. T. Laurens, author of "Heroes and Patriots of the South." 
i2mo. cloth. Price, $1.00. 

LIVES OF THE HEROES OF THE AMERICAN 
REVOLUTION. 

Comprising the Lives of Washington and his Generals. The 
Declaration of Independence. The Constitution of the United 
States. The Inaugural, First Annual . and Farewell Addresses 
of Washington. With Portraits. i2mo., cloth. Price $1.00 

COLUMBA; A Tale of Corsica. 

By Prosper Merimee. As a picture of Corsican life and manners, 
Columba is unequalled. In one handsome volume. Price $1.00 



LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 17 

LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF A PASTOR'S LIFE. 
By S. H. Elliott. One volume, izmo., cloth. Price $i.oo. 

" This is a woll-written, highly instructive book. It is a story of the life- 
teachings, and life-trials of a good man, whose great aim was to elevate, 
morally and intellectually, his fellow-men. Like many of his nature and 
temperament, some of his views were Utopian. But his successes and 
failures, with the causes of these, are painted with a masterly hand. There 
is unusual strength aad vitality in this volume." 

THREE PER CENT. A MONTH; 

Or, the Perils of Fast Living. A Warning to Young Men. 
By Chas. Burdett, One volume, izmo., cloth. Price $i.oo. 

"The style of this book is direct and effective, particularly fitting the 
impression which such a story should make. It is a very spirited and in- 
structive tale, leaving a good impression both upon the reader's sensibilitiea 
and morals." 

EVENINGS AT HOME; 

Or, Tales for the Fireside. By Jane C. Campbell. One 
volume, i2mo., cloth. Price $i.oo. 

" We know of no book in the whole range of modem fictitious literature 
we would sooner select for a delightful and instructive companion." 

RURAL LIFE; 

Or, Prose and Poetry of the Woods and Fields. By Harry 
Penciller. One volume, cloth, i2mo. Price $i.oo. 

" Beautiful landscapes, family scenes and conversations, rural sketches of 
woods and vales, of the beauties of verdant fields and fragrant flowers, of 
the music of birds and running brooks, all described in an original and un- 
studied manner, which cannot fail to deUght every one whose character is 
imbued with a love of nature." 

JOYS AND SORROWS OF HOME; 

An Autobiography. By Anna Leland. One volume, i2mo., 
cloth. Price $i.oo 

"This is one of the most beautiful domestic stories we have ever read, 
Intensely interesting, with a natural flow and easiness which leads the reader 
Imperceptibly on to the close, and then leaves a regret that the tale is done." 



1 8 LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. "*^^ 



BEAUTY OF WOMAN'S FAITH; <~ 

A Tale of Southern Life. One volume, izmc, cloth. Price 
$1 oo. 

**This volume contains the story of a French Emigrant, who first e&caped 
to England, and afterward settled on a plantation in Louisiana. It is charm- 
ingly told, and the strength and endurance of woman's faith well illustrated." 

THE ORPHAN BOY; 

Or, Lights and Shadows of Northern Life. By Jeremy Loud. 
One volume, i2mo., cloth. Price ^i.oo. 

*'This is a work illustrating the passions and pleasures, the trials and tri- 
umphs of common life; it is well written and the interest is admirably sus- 
tained." 

THE ORPHAN GIRLS; 

A Tale of Life in the South. By James S. Peacock, M.D.^ 
of Mississippi. One volume, i2mo., cloth. Price $i.oo. 

"The style is fluent and unforced, the description of character well limned, 
and the pictures of scenery forcible and felicitous. There is a natural con- 
veyance of incidents to the denouement, and the reader closes the volume with 
an increased regard for the talent and spirit of tho author." 

NEW ENGLAND BOYS; 

Or, the Three Apprentices. By A. L. Stimson. One volume, 
izmo.. Cloth. Price $i oo. 

" This is a very agreeable book, written in a dashing independent style. The 
incidents are numerous and striking, the characters life-like, and the plot 
sufficiently captivating to enchain the reader's attention to the end of the 
volume." 

THE KING'S ADVOCATE; 

Or, the Adventures of a Witch Finder. One volume, 1 2mo., 
cloth. Price$i.oo. 

"This is a book so thoroughly excellent, so exalted in its character, bo full 
of exquisite pictures of society, and manifesting so much genius, skill, and 
knowledge of human nature, that no one can possibly read it without admit- 
ting it to be, in every way, a noble book. The story, too, is one of stirring 
interest; and it either sweeps you along with its powerful spell, or beguiles 
you with its tenderness, pathos and geniality." _■ ^% Q y 



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